


Marauder Ink 2: Black and Grey

by jennandblitz



Series: Marauder Ink [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Muggle, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Badass Manager Lily Evans, Black Family Nastiness, Body Modification, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Fist Fights, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, M/M, Marauders, Minor Violence, Modern Era, Modern Marauders (Harry Potter), Nightmares, Our Moony Man of Mystery, Past Child Abuse, Piercer Remus Lupin, Piercings, Police, Relationship(s), Scarification, Scars, Sequel, Sexual Content, Sirius is his usual neurotic self, Stalking, Tattoo Artist James Potter, Tattoo Artist Sirius Black, Tattoos, They've all got issues, Trauma, can you imagine the audacity, except they're both still idiots, love doesn't fix everything, not R/S though, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2020-01-04 05:53:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 94,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18337499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandblitz/pseuds/jennandblitz
Summary: Marauder Ink is getting more and more successful, Instagram-famous and wildly talented tattoo artists Sirius Black and James Potter, along with Remus Lupin, piercer and body modification expert, and their badass manager Lily Evans-Potter. Everything always looks great on social media, especially now Sirius and Remus are officially 'in a relationship', but social media isn't always what it seems, is it?You proooobably want to read Marauder Ink (the prequel) before you read this? But I'm sure you could wing it, if you liked!Also, check out theMarauder Ink playliston Spotify, and come ask me which songs are from who over ontumblr(if you think there's a tag missing/something I've overlooked, please get in touch - either comments or on tumblr and I can update things!)





	1. Chapter 1

 

 

“Ah fucking hell, you two!”

James stormed out of the bathroom and into the kitchen to seize a piece of chalk from the counter and mark an angry tally on the chalkboard on the fridge.

“Sorry Prongs!” Sirius called, strolling out of the bathroom looking utterly apologetic, wiping some of Remus’ toothpaste from his mouth through a grin. “You know Moony can’t keep his hands off me in the morning.”

Sirius cast a look back at the bathroom door to see Remus smiling softly, looking decidedly pinker than Sirius. “ _I’m_ not that sorry!” Remus called before he blew Sirius a quick kiss and shut the bathroom door, his eyes bright, his lips deliciously pink. God, Sirius adored him.

James scoffed and rolled his eyes, gesturing at the chalkboard. _Times Caught Shagging_ , it said, with a split down the middle, _James & Lily _on one side and _Sirius & Remus_ on the other. “Yeah, I know, I can hear it most of the time. Keep the damn bathroom door locked, will you?” James was smiling though, despite his crossed arms. “I _do not_ need to see Moony on his knees at 8:30 in the morning!”

Sirius, clad in his towel, hair in damp tendrils around his neck, just smiled. The tallies on the chalkboard were remarkably even on both sides. “Well I definitely did. But alright, fine.” He bumped James with his hip. “So long as you and Lils move to the bloody bedroom next time instead of staying on the sofa.”

James grinned. “She looked at me and she was wearing that skirt, Pads.”

“Ugh please, don’t talk about the woman I see as my sister like that.” Sirius grinned and ducked back into the bedroom, kicking the door shut.

“Stop letting your boyfriend blow you in the bathroom then!”

“Try and tell Moony that!” Sirius laughed as he shed his towel and padded across to the dresser. He shoved a few of Remus’ jumpers back to his side of the drawers and dug to find his favourite Queen shirt, tossing it onto the bed before he pulled on his underwear.

The door clicked behind him and a moment later Sirius felt Remus’ arms wind around his middle and the soft press of his lips at Sirius’ neck. “Prongs isn’t too mad, is he?”

Sirius dropped his head back onto Remus’ shoulder, automatically tilting his head as Remus scraped his teeth over his shoulder. “Mmm, nah, he’ll live.”

“He’ll have added another tally onto the chalkboard,” Remus muttered into his neck, reaching past him to retrieve his own clothes.

“Good.” Sirius turned to press a kiss to Remus’ jawline before ducking out of his arms to get dressed properly. “They were catching up otherwise.”

“Oh, I see, so your decision to come out of the shower and lean against the sink all seductive like that whilst I was trying to brush my teeth was a tactical decision, was it?” Remus chuckled as he pulled on his jeans. Sirius tilted his head to watch the curve of his arse in a way he would never tire of.

“I don’t have the faintest idea what you’re talking about, Moony,” he sing-songed as he dragged a brush through his hair.

They had fallen into a nice routine in the mornings - Sirius and Remus moving around each other to get showered and dressed and ready as if they occupied the same body - and they had fallen into it quite quickly. Remus moved in at the height of summer, after Doc and the Twins went off on their European tour, and James had posed him the question without even consulting Lily or Sirius. James was his mother’s son, and wanted intently to take care of everyone, so of course, once Remus mentioned he was needing to look for a flat, James jumped at the chance and all but insisted Remus move in. Thankfully, Remus had agreed it made sense, and of course, he’d said to Sirius later, he wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to fall asleep next to his boyfriend every night.

In truth, Sirius had been a little mad with James at first, because it was Sirius James had invited Remus to share a bed with, not himself, and he felt as if it would be even harder to hide just how much he dreamed and _screamed_ at night when Remus was living with him instead of just occasionally staying the night. But Remus either slept like the dead, or was giving Sirius the oblivious space he needed. Whenever Sirius jolted awake at the witching hour, breath ragged in his throat, Remus was asleep with his arm securely around Sirius’ middle, as if dragging him back to the present from Grimmauld Place.

So actually, despite Sirius hating the idea of sharing his bed when Remus first arrived, now he wouldn’t have it any other way. Remus stirring at 3am when Sirius came back from his position at the kitchen sink and kissing him until they both fell back asleep was sure better than staring at the ceiling waiting for sleep to come with the echo of the crows still in his ears.

“C’mon, you two!” Lily banged on the bedroom door as she did most mornings. “If you’re shagging again, we are leaving without you!”

Sirius laughed - for once, they _weren’t_. He shrugged on his leather jacket, glad for the early September weather dipping back into cool enough for him to wear it. “C’mon, Moons, before they do actually leave without us.”

“Right behind you Pads,” Remus muttered, following Sirius out of their room and out of the already-vacant flat towards where James and Lily would be waiting for them.

“You wish.” Sirius wiggled his hips a little as they stepped out into the morning air, and was rewarded with a peal of laughter from Remus, whose hand settled on the small of his back. Sirius sometimes felt like he wanted Remus’ handprint tattooed there for how often he found it resting on the tender skin of his back. He thought of the back dimple piercings he saw on Remus’ Instagram all that time ago, how it would feel for Remus to absent-mindedly trail a finger over metal there. Christ, no wonder they got distracted all the time. Sirius shook his head as they hurried around to the car park.

James was leaning against Sirius’ bike, spare helmet already in his hand. “Oh look, that’s got to be a record… no one is pulling their shirt back on?”

“You’re awful. We aren’t that bad.”

“I dunno,” Sirius murmured, pulling Remus in for a goodbye kiss. “We’re pretty bad, aren’t we?”

“Mhmm, is that a problem?” Remus grinned, voice low and tremulous.

“It’s a problem for me! Put him down!” Lily called, waving Remus over to the car. “We’ll be late!”

Remus grinned and skirted around to where Lily was leaning against the drivers side of their car, fastidiously ignoring Lily rolling her eyes. Sirius tilted his head to watch Remus walk away for a moment before pulling his helmet on.

James threw his hands up and laughed. “It’s a miracle! They listen!” He pulled his own helmet and waited for Sirius to get on the bike whilst Lily and Remus went ahead in the car. They had an agreement in place now, that Remus always went in the car with either James or Lily, so as to avoid the bike. It hurt Sirius a little to know that he couldn’t give Remus the joy he felt on the bike, that he didn’t trust Sirius. But he also knew how deeply trauma could be rooted, and he didn’t want to push Remus. The main thing Sirius wanted was for Remus to be _happy_. He wanted to catch his eye across the room and see him smile and not feel like there was an ocean between them.

There were moments where their relationship felt solid, months old at this point - Christ, it felt like a lifetime, didn’t it? - and built on so much that they could be nothing but strong. But then, something would shift, or Sirius would catch Remus looking at him a certain way, or Remus would flinch when Sirius touched that moon-like scar between his shoulders when he wasn’t really thinking, when he wanted to just _see_ , and Sirius would find himself thinking _God, I don’t know you at all, do I?_

That was the crux of it. Did they really know each other? It felt like they did, but sometimes Sirius thought he only knew all of Remus’ painful parts. He didn’t know his happiest memory or where he would love to go on holiday or if he was really doing what he loved in life. Did Remus know that about Sirius either? Had they ever had those kind of conversations? Had they ever spoken into the dawn light like he and James did at Eton, or over pizza on a Sunday afternoon like he and Lily did, and bared themselves in the good ways? Had Sirius ever told Remus how much he admired his professional work? Had he ever said that, despite everything, Sirius still hoped for the good in people? That Sirius missed Regulus? That Sirius’ fondest memory of his whole life was waking up after James and Lily’s wedding party, on the edge of the pond at Potter Farm and finally feeling like he had a home?

Sometimes, just _sometimes_ , Sirius looked at Remus over a sandwich in the main room of the shop, or over a drink at the Three Sweeps, or abed at 3am, and thought _I am sharing my bed, and my life, and my heart, with a stranger._

_-_

The first Tuesday of every month was for therapy. Lily had cleared his schedule and James had sat with him to book a recurring appointment with the therapist he had first seen when they first moved to London and Remus had left him that morning with a loving kiss that seemed to calm the nervousness humming through his brain.

Sarah was a wonderful therapist, only a year or so older than Sirius, with reddy-brown hair that was always piled on top of her head in a way that made Sirius mildly jealous of her styling skills. In theory, Sirius had known Sarah for such a long time, that he should’ve found it easy to just pour his heart out to her. She reminded him of Marlene, no nonsense, affectionate but a realist. Sarah often gave him the space to see things from outside his own point of view before she grabbed him (metaphorically) by the shoulders, and shook some sense into him. Sirius was well-aware his neuroses stopped him from functioning how he should, and he _tried_. But, like always, the words stopped at the tip of his tongue.

 _I should be happy. I’m loved. I have a wonderful support system, I have Prongs and Lily and Moony and I haven’t seen my family in months. We’re successful. I_ ** _should_** _feel stable and healthy, but I still feel like I’m spiralling. I feel like I’m just waiting for something bad to happen_.

“I’m okay, I guess.” Sirius scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck, staring at a point just beyond Sarah’s plaid trousers.

Sarah tucked her foot up onto her chair and rested her chin on the palm of her hand. Sirius hated when she did that. Just sat and _waited_. Sirius knew he wore his heart on his sleeve, his vulnerabilities aired every time he came face to face with a Black family member, or every time Walburga’s voice came out of his mouth and he went for the throat over a stupid argument because it _hurt_. But that didn’t mean he had to _talk_ about it. In fact, not talking about it at all seemed entirely preferable. Maybe, at a push, he could shout about things at 1am after too many vodka Red Bull’s, but he wouldn’t ever sit and talk about just how much his family life had pulled him apart, how he still felt wracked with guilt over the way he treated Remus in Spain, how sometimes, he felt nothing at all.

Still, Sarah waited.

Sirius heaved a sigh and raked a hand through his hair, left loose around his shoulders since he wasn’t tattooing. “The shop is good. We’re doing well. Another interview in _Skin Deep_ magazine… Halloween party coming up…” Sirius leant his elbows on his knees. “Remus and I are… getting on. Remember I told you about him?”

Sarah nodded, said in her most soothing voice, “I remember.”

“We… we don’t talk so much. But I - I adore him. We’re close. I feel close to him… so glad I have him. And Prongs and Lils.”

“Mhmm.”

More silence. Sarah waited.

The words stopped at the tip of his tongue.

-

That night, Sirius looked over at Remus on the sofa, his legs in Sirius’ lap, and saw an expression he couldn’t place on Remus’ face as he stared at his phone. Sirius leant forward and tapped on his knee to draw his attention. Immediately, Remus’ expression closed off and Sirius felt his own walls fly back up. So much space, a fucking _ocean_ between them, just a different ocean, new waters, willing for closeness but not knowing how to open up. Remus wanted to open up, Sirius knew that, by the way Remus looked at him or took his hand or cupped his face. But neither of them knew how, did they? Neither of them knew how to push through to the other person, just walking through the motions of closeness hoping it would come to them anyway.

“Hey, you alright Moons?” Sirius asked anyway.

Remus smiled. “Yeah, fine Pads. Don’t worry.” Remus shifted and kissed him on the lips, one hand stroking through his hair, as if that was a substitute for honesty.

There was only so many times Sirius could ask Remus and get that veneer in response. If Remus wanted to keep everything locked behind his doors, then Sirius could do the same. True, their veneer was beautiful, the varnish over the two of them hiding their cracks and holding them together. Whoever said love healed everything was wrong. Maybe time would give them the ability to heal, or maybe they were pulling each other down. Sirius saw how Remus flinched when Sirius kissed any of his pink scars, had kicked off entirely and rolled over to sleep when Sirius had suggested he lie on his front so Sirius could rub his sore back. Both of them had scars, had issues, had problems, and maybe Sirius had been looking at things with rose-tinted glasses when he said he wanted to help Remus figure out life, he wanted them to lean on each other.

Because sometimes leaning on another just highlighted your weaknesses. But Sirius would not give up, because they fit together so wonderfully. His heart ached with how much he adored Remus, how much he could watch his profile under the flickering television lights just to see the little quirk of a smile, how wonderful he felt when Remus smiled at him. God, he felt alive when he got to watch Remus work, got to watch him creating miracles, going on vision quests with needles and titanium and warm flesh beneath his fingers.

Remus had given Sirius another ear piercing over the summer, and Sirius had watched with unabashed adoration as Remus’ skilled fingers worked before pulling him into a blistering kiss. They would’ve descended into rutting against the wall if Lily’s voice wasn’t so clear in their minds saying _health and safety violations!_ It was just that there was something so intense about the way he concentrated when he worked, and Sirius was sure Remus felt the same about him. Sometimes, Remus stayed late to his and James’ tattoo sessions, watching with awe as Sirius touched up the years old piece on James’ bicep - because they were both running out of skin real estate now. The way Remus watched his fingers had almost been obscene, amber eyes dancing. Sirius couldn’t deny the chemistry between them was still electric.

Despite that, it was so easy to fall into the trap of only looking at the negative parts of a relationship, those parts where you thought you might fit together, but in actuality, it’s maybe not as smooth.

Sirius knew he and Remus went together. He knew they did indeed fit together. Perhaps their pieces were a little ragged, but together, they were just a little more polished, weren’t they? That veneer across them both. He knew they were okay. Sirius knew _he_ was fine enough. He knew this was as content as he had felt in _years_. Perhaps not _happy_ , maybe that wasn’t a word he was allowed, not after everything, not after his whole damn life, happiness seemed unattainable. But content? Okay? Fine? They seemed manageable, and he knew that, despite the walls still between them, Remus was the closest Sirius would ever get to any of those things. Remus’ acceptance of him, Remus by his side, after all of this, was the sweetest thing.

As he fell into bed with Remus, pale limbs tangled with his lightly tanned ones, the question came out his mouth again, one more time to try - “You sure you’re alright?”

Remus smiled and nodded, but he didn’t speak, mouthing down over Sirius’ ribs, kissing along all of his tattoos, scraping his teeth, marking, bruising, _adoring_. Sirius moaned and sank into him, hands carding through his auburn curls and down the lotus at the back of his neck.

Remus smiled and nipped at Sirius’ hip bone. “You’re so beautiful.” What they saw of each other was beautiful. Beautiful in the way an abandoned building was beautiful, alluring in its sadness, beckoning you to explore the festering hallways, knowing you might find something awful inside.

Sirius cried out as Remus took him into his mouth, swirling that expert tongue, the piercing, over the underside of Sirius’ cock. He turned his head to muffle another moan into his pillow and held on tighter to Remus’ hair, not pulling or tugging, just holding, holding, holding. Remus slid a hand over to lace their fingers with his free hand, humming something appreciative at the back of his throat that rattled through Sirius. His amber eyes were burning, so burning, so beautiful. God, Sirius adored him despite everything, rioting between despair and adulation in the same heartbeat as Remus sucked him deeper, learning the bits of them that fit together now in this space of comfort and apparent openness. Sirius twisted his fingers into Remus’ hair, shifting his hips, thrusting shallowly, savouring every bit of Remus, amber eyes glittering up at him as his tongue did riotous things to Sirius’ cock.

“Ah, _fuck_ , Moony, I’m co- I’m comi-”

Remus just hummed and hollowed his cheeks, swallowing as Sirius came down his throat, gasping through the throes of his orgasm, fingers clenched with Remus’ on the sheets beside them, his mind quiet. Just like always, Sirius felt unmoored, floating away on the sea of Moony, anchored to him, thigh over his shoulder. Remus kissed his inner thigh, sliding his tongue over the crease of Sirius’ hip before moving up next to him.

Perhaps he could’ve asked again, once he had caught his breath, once his vision focussed to see Remus smiling at him, eyes bright, looking so, _so_ beautiful. He could’ve said, _you sure you’re okay, Moons? I’m here for you, I want you to be okay._ But he didn’t. Instead Sirius sat up and pushed Remus onto his back and nuzzled down between his legs.

Remus’ moans were music to his ears as Sirius tongued the piercing beneath the head of Remus’ cock. Sirius grinned, eyelids fluttering, _fuck_ , Remus was so beautiful, all lightly tanned limbs threaded with metal and moonlight silver-white. Sirius never felt more selfless than when Remus was writhing under him, solely focussed on Remus’ pleasure, wanting to pull him apart and adore him entirely. Remus came with a low moan of _Fuck, Pads_ , eyebrows pitched together, teeth on the black of his lip ring and Sirius swallowed, coaxing him through the waves of his orgasm. When Remus sank back into the bed, Sirius crawled up to press his face into Remus’ neck.

They shared a cigarette afterwards, limbs entangled together, Remus’ arm around Sirius’ shoulders, stroking the dragon over his spine. Sirius propped himself up on an elbow and exhaled a whirl of smoke into Remus’ mouth, Remus took a drag of the cigarette and exhaled it back. Sirius tasted himself on Remus’ tongue with a languid kiss, tasted them both, stitched together, intertwined.

 _You can fuck your feelings away_ , he thought again, no longer outside of Heaven surrounded by cigarette smoke, feeling like it was yesterday and a year ago when it was really only a few months. _Is it any better for the both of us to fuck our feelings away?_ _Knowing neither of us are okay but just carrying on anyway?_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this was late you guys! I've been sick and spent most of yesterday asleep on the sofa, mumbling "but Marauder Ink!" to my husband. 
> 
> Like always, thank you to my bestie Purplechimera for the top-notch beta and all around encouragement and making my fever-ramblings readable!

 

Sirius shouldered through the doorway to the shop with an armful of coffee and was met with a crowd at least four times the size of the usual group gathered there. Christ, he’d only nipped out on a coffee run for the four of them - the usual sugary mess for James, a large latte for Lily, strong tea for Remus and a flat white for him - and now he comes back to an overflowing shop. Through the group he spotted Lily, who looked a little flustered at the desk, the phone in one hand.

“Sirius! Give me a quick hand will you?” She called over the few people that turned to see who had just entered the shop. He could hear James’ tattoo machine buzzing in his room, and the door to Remus’ room was shut so that probably meant he was piercing. Sirius sighed softly, sad that he was missing Remus working away, but stepped through the crowd regardless, always happy to see his pride and joy of a business flourishing.

“Hello everyone, hello hello, ‘scuse me, thank you!” He sat the coffees down and reached around Lily to grab a pen. “What’s going on?” He whispered to her, a hand on her waist, casting his gaze over the queue.

“I have damn no clue,” Lily hissed back, flipping through the diary with one hand.

“Hello darling, how can I help?” Sirius smiled his friendly-showman smile and spun the pen around between his fingers. Sirius dealt with the queue in person, chattering away, discussing piercings, consultations, pricing, whilst Lily dealt with phone enquiries, leaning over his shoulder to add notes into the diary. Soon enough the queue was sinking away, a few people left who were booking in for a consultation with James. When Sirius had a moment to look up, Remus was at the desk assisting Lily with piercing confirmations, and he looked up to meet Sirius’ eyes. Remus’ whole face bloomed into a smile that Sirius felt like he would _kill_ for.

“Hey you,” Remus said as Sirius crossed over and greeted him with a quick kiss on the cheek just to solidify the view of his sunshine smile. The whole world melted away whenever Sirius saw Remus smile.

“Hey, I got drinks.” Sirius distributed the hot drinks around the table as Lily finished the last few bookings, then went back to helping the queue. Once the shop was empty, James still tattooing away, the buzzing of his machine a constant backdrop, Sirius sank onto the sofa and threw his feet up. He had ten whole minutes to catch up on social media and he was damn well going to use them.

“Oh, look, that’s why we’re having a rush of people, you two!” Sirius waved his phone as Lily perched on the arm of the sofa and Remus nudged his feet aside to sit on the other side of the sofa. Sirius rubbed his foot over the top of Remus’ thigh in a show of affection that breached the ocean between them, because sex was different to affection. “Here, we’ve been shared by a couple of sites I think. _Skin Deep_ and- shit, it looks like GQ included us in a list: _10 Best Tattoo Shops in London_.”

“Fuck… there goes our quiet week then…” Lily sighed, but she was smiling at the corners, sliding off the arm of the sofa to check through the rapidly-filling diary. Sirius gulped the rest of his coffee, leant over to kiss Remus on the cheek, and strode into his room to set up for his next client.

The rest of the day flew by, a flurry of work, moments between clients where Sirius could inhale a cup of tea and a cereal bar that Remus pressed into his hand - as they stole a quick kiss in the office and Lily laughed and called them lovesick puppies - then they were locking up. Every night when they trailed around to the car park in companionable but exhausted silence, surrounded by cigarette smoke, Sirius wondered if Remus might touch him on the arm and say _shall I come on the bike tonight, then?_

But no, Remus got into the car with James whilst Lily slid on the bike behind him.

“Think you’ll ever get Moony on the bike?” Lily muttered into the helmet intercom as Sirius pulled out onto the main road.

“Maybe one day,” Sirius muttered, enjoying the way Lily sank into him as he picked up speed, the faith his sister-in-law had of him, chin tucked against his shoulder, arms firm but not tight around his middle. He thought of Remus there instead, the long lines of him against Sirius’ back the same way he pressed against him in bed. It would be nice, wouldn’t it? Long trips around the countryside on a Monday, journeying to Potter Farm for dinner, able to go places together without James or Lily or an Uber. He was sure Lily heard his wistful sigh.

Back at the flat, it was James and Sirius’ turn to cook dinner, and so after pulling on his comfy clothes and throwing his hair into a quick bun, Sirius set about chopping vegetables. James and Remus weren’t home yet - James definitely obeyed the speed limit, Sirius _definitely_ didn’t - but he could get a head-start whilst Lily put Prince on the record player and threw a load of dirty laundry in the washer. Sometimes, they were so domestic, the four of them together, that Sirius’ heart hurt for thinking of sixteen year old Sirius, how he thought he would never get anything like this.

When Remus and James did arrive home, with a joyful call from James at the threshold, Remus ducked past Sirius with a small smile. “Going for a shower, Pads.”

“Alright,” Sirius responded, frowning a little at his sudden change of demeanour. “Dinner won’t be long.” Sirius caught Remus’ shrug as he ducked into the bathroom, but his boyfriend didn’t reply beyond that.

Sirius found James in the kitchen measuring out spaghetti for them all and nudged up next to him. “Anything happen with you and Moony in the car?”

James paused with a handful of spaghetti, thoughtful behind his thick-rimmed glasses. “No? I don’t think so? Just had the radio on, listened to the news… don’t think there was anything distinctly upsetting on there though. He alright?”

Sirius hummed, stirring away at the sauce, stepping aside for Lily to ease past and put the kettle on. “I dunno, just seemed a little off, that’s all.”

James shrugged. “He’ll be fine. Go sneak up on him in the shower.” James’ grin was lurid as he swiped his finger in the sauce to test it. “That’ll probably help, won’t it?”

Lily smacked her husband on the arm with a teaspoon. “Last week you were mad you walked in on them in the bathroom, now you’re condoning it!?”

Sirius snorted and dodged past Lily, who was aiming another smack with the teaspoon towards him. “I won’t pass up your blessing, Prongsie, if you think you can manage pasta and sauce in my absence?”

“I give you and Moony this one-time pass to do whatever you please in the bathroom, so long as you’re ready for dinner in ten minutes.” James gave him a solemn look, hand over his heart and Sirius smacked a kiss onto his cheek in response as he stepped past.

A man of his word, Sirius strode to the bathroom, pressed his ear to it to ensure the shower was indeed running, then slipped inside. Remus’ phone was on the sink, playing _Doc and The Twins_ , and Sirius tapped his foot to the music as he padded over to the shower. The frosted glass screen didn’t do much to obscure Remus’ form, just blurred his edges a little, but Sirius could still make out his wonderful profile tilted up towards the shower head, the lean, sharp line of the arm raised above his head, hand currently lodged in his hair, the curve of his arse. Christ alive, Sirius could lose hours a day just staring at Remus’ arse. He leant his chin on the palm of his hand and said in his best sultry voice, “Darling Moonbeam, want some company?”

Remus jumped and turned to him. For a moment Sirius caught the expression on his face, the lines of tension over his mouth, the darkness around his eyes, before Remus replaced it all with a hollow smile. Sirius couldn’t decide if the redness of Remus’ eyes was from the way he washed his face really vigorously, or something else entirely.

“Hey… you okay Moons?” Sirius softened immediately, standing up and reaching around the screen to touch Remus on the arm, not caring if he got wet.

“Fine, Pads, fine.” Remus scrubbed a hand over his face and stepped out from under the shower head. “What are you doing?”

“Well, I thought I might see if you wanted some company…” Sirius bit his lip. “You sure you’re alright?”

Remus turned a little, and the motion didn’t escape Sirius. Remus was more comfortable with full-frontal nudity than showing the scar on his back. “I- um… Won’t dinner be ready soon?”

Sirius shrugged one shoulder. “That’s never stopped us before.” Remus didn't say anything. “Alright… see you in a minute then.”

“I'll be out in a second.” Remus closed his eyes, looking back towards the shower.

Sirius watched the twist of Remus’ oblique muscles for a moment before he bit his lip and turned away, slipping out of the bathroom and padding back into the kitchen.

“Quickest blowjob in the history of man Pads, good God!” James grinned, dodging another thwack on the arm from Lily. “Didn't think you were that good!”

“Oh ha ha,” Sirius stuck his tongue out. “I'm fucking talented, alright?” Stepping past them both, Sirius went to check on the tea brewing. “Pasta nearly done?”

Dinner came together easily, like it did most nights, domestic harmony between the four even if everything else was discordant. Remus slipped out of the bedroom to join the trio at the table, smiling softly at Sirius and nudging him with an affectionate elbow as he passed the pepper grinder. Sirius sighed and tried not to think about anything beyond how good the pasta was.

After dinner, James and Lily slinked off into their bedroom, perhaps to give Sirius and Remus some privacy, maybe for their own privacy, maybe to just have a minute without the other couple because _damn,_ they were around each other 24/7. Sirius set his current favourite - _Modern Ruin_ by Frank Carter and the Rattlesnakes - on the turntable and sank onto the sofa next to Remus, who was flicking idly through a copy of _Skin Deep_.

Sirius let his head drop onto Remus’ shoulder, testing their boundaries, reaching out into their ocean not with a kiss or a wandering hand, but a touch. “Hey you.”

Remus smiled, and Sirius watched a flicker of tension ease and dissipate over his shoulders. Sirius felt so carefully tuned in to the body he knew nearly as well as his own, even if he didn't know the mind. Remus let the magazine fall shut, dropping it back onto the coffee table. “Hey Pads.”

Sirius twisted a little, shifted to trace the lines of the mandala at Remus’ jaw with the pad of one reverent finger. “You know I adore you, right?”

Remus chuckled and turned to kiss the tips of Sirius’ fingers. The smile on his face looked beautifully unguarded in the low summer light. “I know. I adore you too.”

_I want you to break my heart, so I know love. Let me feel tragedy wash over us._

Sirius smiled softly at the song, wonderful and horrible timing as usual. Did Remus hear the words as he did? Was it awful if Sirius wanted the tragedy, something to cling to? An assurance that his anxiety was _right?_ That things would go _wrong_ eventually? Sirius leant up to kiss the corner of Remus’ mouth, soft, affectionate, careful. Remus carded fingers through Sirius’ hair, rubbing gently at his scalp in smooth circles.

They met in the middle for a kiss, both swimming out to no-mans-land, taken in by the inexorable pull of the current between them, strong, constant, unyielding. Remus kissed so tenderly that Sirius sank into him, a palm sliding over the curve of his bicep to trail fingers over the scarification over the nape of his neck. Perhaps this was their way of an apology, both of them. Apologies for not knowing boundaries, for knowing them but stepping over them anyway, for snapping at each other, for causing a wave in their shared ocean. Neither of them knew how to yield to the current, neither of them knew how to bend without breaking, to give without offering resistance.

And it showed.

Neither Sirius or Remus had broached the subject of sex. Of course, there were other ways to get off together, to chase that phantom connection between them. Sirius wasn’t complaining - Remus’ mouth was a thing of beauty wherever it was, all threaded with warm metal - but the fact hung in the air between them, unsaid, like a spectre of what they could be if either of them knew how any of this worked. Sirius hadn’t ever felt connection like this before in his whole life. Those past relationships, years old, paled in comparison, and he knew Remus hadn’t sought out anything beyond quick release since Greyback. The world really was winding them together, wasn’t it? Whether they liked it or not.

But Sirius _adored_ Remus, and he saw the light in Remus’ eyes when they were in bed together, the look that said _Christ, you are the only thing keeping me afloat_. Sirius crawled forward into Remus’ lap, long legs splayed on the sofa, to chase more kisses from that divine mouth.

“We should move to the bedroom,” Remus muttered against Sirius’ lips, hands stroking over the muscles of his back, “before we get another strike on the chalkboard.”

Sirius laughed into the kiss, grinding his hips down against Remus’, delighting in the moan he gave in response. Perhaps this was their way of saying _apology accepted_ too.

As they fell into bed, Sirius found that he didn’t mind that he didn’t have all of Remus, because he wasn’t able to give all of himself either, and maybe, the bits they shared would be just enough.

 

“Alright Lils, need a hand?”

Sirius wiped off his hands after cleaning down from his morning client as he stepped into the main room to see Lily picking through the post for the day. She stayed on top of it, like she did everything in the shop, and Sirius knew that if it were left up to him, James or Remus, the post would collect in the basket on the desk for _weeks_ before they opened any of it.

“Mm, no, just weeding out all of the junk mail,” Lily muttered, dropping a handful of leaflets in the recycling. “How’d that client go? He seemed a bit picky didn’t he?”

Sirius perched on the edge of the desk and shrugged a little, ignoring the pain that shot across his shoulder from the motion. “He wasn’t so bad, just knew what he wanted.”

Lily smiled enigmatically over the top of an envelope. “How is it you have so much patience with someone in the chair, but outside of it, you’ve the shortest fuse of all of us?”

Sirius pressed a hand to his chest and tried to look offended. “I mean, wow, Lily. Don’t hold back will you?” He tipped his chin up in an attempt to draw on his haughty, upper-class heritage. “And I’ll have you know Sarah says I’m getting better!”

When Lily didn’t laugh, or respond at all, eyes glued to the page in front of her, Sirius frowned. “Lils? Everything alright?”

“Yeah, fine.” Lily’s voice sounded distant as she blinked a few times and leant over to drop the letter in the recycling.

Sirius snatched it up out of her fingers. “What is this? Someone being a creep again, or wanting free promos? You know spam mail is-”

Sirius trailed off. He recognised that handwriting anywhere, and who the hell even still hand-wrote things in this day and age anyway?

Regulus Black, that’s who.

_Mrs. Evans-Potter,_

_I imagine it will be you who opens this letter, so I shall address it thus but I’m under no illusion that you won’t show this to my brother._

_I thought you all should know that I have managed to convince Bella, Cissy and their friends to go to our beach house in Fiji when you are having your ‘Halloween Party’, and so there should be no further interruptions from the Black family there - notwithstanding anything my brother may do, of course. Please don’t mistake the gesture for good will - the last incident was bad publicity for us all. So whilst sending my dearest cousins to Fiji might cost thousands, it will save the company millions. And I’m sure it will keep your lovely little hobby business in good stead too._

_Your restraining order doesn’t cover letter sent to a business premises, just for your information. So don’t try to get your little lawyer friend onto me, Potter._

_Oh, and do tell my brother to unblock my number, it’s incredibly childish, and wholly inconvenient if one of us may be the bearer of bad news._

_Regards_

_Regulus A. Black_

Sirius scoffed and dropped the letter into the recycling, a shiver tightening through his spine. The worst of it? It had been Orion’s voice reading the letter in his head, not the gentle tones of his younger brother that Sirius remembered, but the harsh, clipped voice of his father.

“Padfoot…” Lily’s voice washed into his mind.

_You’re a disgrace to the Black family name, boy. A fucking disgrace, wasting your time with all that useless art and cavorting with the working classes. You getting caught vandalising your school buildings and causing trouble with that disgusting friend of yours costs me_ **_thousands_ ** _boy, and I’ll be fucking damned if there aren’t some repercussions here because you do not besmirch the family name like that._

“Pads, hey-” Lily had crossed around to the other side of the desk, and Sirius flinched when she laid a gentle hand on his arm. “Hey, it’s alright…”

Sirius shook his head, dislodging several strands of hair from the loose bun they were thrown into. “Sorry, sorry, it’s-”

Lily smiled and eased Sirius back onto the sofa, sitting next to him, hand still reassuring but light on his arm. “It’s alright, it’s okay. That’s a good thing, they won’t even be in the country, and you don’t need to listen to anything Regulus says because he knows _nothing_ about your life anymore, okay?” She smiled earnestly, brushing a strand of Sirius’ hair out of his eyes.

She was saying the right things of course, Regulus had no sway over Sirius’ life, and neither did Orion - hell, he was sure Orion had forgotten him entirely - but it was like the words weren’t quite sinking in. Regulus didn’t have any power over him, but the Orion in his brain did. The past memories of his father - someone who should’ve protected him and loved him - lingered in his brain, the fire poker, the backhands, the kick of expensive leather brogues. Walburga watching, _his mother_ , just watching.

“Y-yeah, yeah.” Sirius smiled and nodded shakily.

“Hey, everything alright?” Remus asked as he skirted around the desk to see Sirius with hands clenched on his own knees, Lily curled at his side.

“Yeah, fine Moons, fine.”

And things were fine, mostly. The rest of the day passed, everyone busy with work. James and Sirius took the bike home, Sirius watching, waiting for Remus to get into the car before he started the engine. Lily and Remus arrived home not longer after them - Lily always drove a little faster than James - and were cooking dinner by the time Sirius came out of the bedroom in his comfy clothes. Dinner was pleasant enough, but Sirius’ stomach was turning and jumping at every opportunity and he could barely taste any of it.

He excused himself for a shower - locking the door behind him - and stood in there for a long time, watching the water swirl around the drain, his mind back in Grimmauld Place, Walburga’s nails in his arm, Orion’s voice in his ear. Was Regulus in Orion’s study now? Did he sit in the same high-back leather chair that Orion did? Was there still a gouge in the desk from where Sirius had smacked his head off the corner? Still a bloodstain on the rug by the fire?

Sirius slipped wordlessly into the bedroom, dried off and crawled into bed. He didn’t want to speak to anyone, didn’t want to think about anything. He rolled over and faced the wall, so tired but dreading sleep.

_The crows are cawing. Loud and insistent. Regulus watches from the corner, backing himself into the shadows there, eyeing the doorway and wondering if he can run. Walburga sits in the chair by the fireplace, watching the flames. They glint through her eyes and over the signet ring on her pinky finger. Sirius’ blood on the edge of the silver catches the light. Sirius is half-conscious, on the rug before the fire, bruised and bloodied, head swimming with the unpleasant lightness of concussion. He blinks once, twice, three times, long blinks, eyelids heavy, he just wants to sleep._

_Orion sets the fire poker back into the stand without wiping the blood from it and it seems bright and fiery red and burns and burns and burns. He strides over and pushes Sirius’ onto his back with the toe of his brogue - careful not to touch the bloodied cracks across Sirius’ legs - and sighs wearily like it’s a huge inconvenience for him. Sirius groans, unable to put up any resistance, breath hissing out from between his bloodied lips because it all just hurts. It all fucking hurts. Then Orion just strides out of the door, back to his study, back to his important work. Walburga studies her fingernails, then after what feels like an eternity, stands and beckons Regulus from the corner. She says something but it’s all distorted in the dream, like being underwater and then he’s left alone._ _The crows come then, tearing at his skin, pecking, pulling, landing on his body, claws digging in. But they’re heavy, heavy, pulling him down, weighting him back into the rug where he can’t move, can’t move, and he needs to move, he needs to go, he needs to run but he can’t and-_

Sirius jerked back to consciousness with a sharp inhale, instinctively batting at the crows sat around his middle. But it’s Remus’ arm, heavy and pinning, trapping him where his mind is and he can’t leave. With a yelp, Sirius shoved at his arm, sitting up and scrambling towards the edge of the bed.

“Padfoot?” Remus’ voice was sleepy at first. Sirius could barely hear it over the pounding of his own heart, the ragged breaths rioting in and out of his mouth. “Sirius- hey, hey, it’s okay.” Remus reaches out to Sirius’ arm, to try and draw him back.

Sirius climbed out of bed, knees nearly buckling, limbs twitching with the urge to just run, as if Orion might be at the door. “No, don’t touch me- don’t fucking _touch me_.”

Remus stilled, hair mussed, shirt hanging from one shoulder, one hand out towards Sirius. The look of hurt would’ve been obvious if Sirius had stopped to look, but everything felt blurry. “Okay, okay- sorry. I-”

Sirius shook his head, tripping towards the door and ripping it open, trying desperately to find his usual path towards the kitchen sink when everything felt upside down and inside out. His knee knocked into the sofa on the way past, shoulder cracking against the doorframe as he stumbled through to the kitchen. Remus followed, keeping a distance, like Sirius was a wild animal he had no clue how to tame.

“Pads…”

Sirius waved an impatient hand at him, eyes screwed shut against the cawing of the crows and Orion’s voice - _there will be repercussions, boy._ “Don’t, Remus, please. Just- just give me a fucking minute-” Sirius leant against the kitchen counter, breathing heavily. Remus’ reflection in the kitchen window lingered a few feet behind him.

“Okay, I’m here, what do you need? Talk-” Remus drew closer, close enough that Sirius could feel his body heat. The reflection in the window lifted a hand as if to touch his shoulder, then thought better of it. “Talk to me.”

“I will, if you tell me why you’ve been off for weeks-” The words hissed from Sirius’ mouth before he’d really thought on them properly, the lingering look of sadness in Remus’ eyes there at the forefront of his mind with Orion and the fire poker. _You give me one more moment of trouble and you’ll regret it, boy._ Sirius pressed his hands over his eyes, wanting to block it all out. Because he didn’t want to _talk_ , he didn’t want to think about himself and why he was here at 3am instead of asleep. Because everything _hurt_.

“Sirius, don’t-” Remus’ voice was still soft. Sirius expected the harsh steel of his voice to surface whenever he went for the jugular, but at 3am, he was still honeyed amber and soft curls and a hand stretching out to reach for Sirius, to try and pull him back.

Somehow, it was worse that way. Sirius knew how to deal with anger, he’d dealt with anger his whole life, but Remus reaching out to him? That was worse. He didn’t want that, he didn’t know how to _receive_ that. James was the only other person to ever see him like that, and he had just forced his way into Sirius’ life at 11 and now they were bound together, but Remus? Here, at 24, in their kitchen, barefoot, hair mussed, reaching out to Sirius to pull him back from the brink of the wave? That was too much, too painful.

“Padfoot?” James’ voice came through from his doorway, sleepy, glasses askew. He took in the scene immediately, Sirius wild-eyed, chest heaving, Remus trying to placate him like luring a rabid dog, and stepped between them. “Hey, Pads, it’s alright, mate. It’s fine. Come on.”

James didn’t need to breach an ocean between them, he already knew how to reach Sirius, had coaxed him through the worst of it over the past ten years, and so when James touched him on the arm and pulled him into a hug, Sirius sank into it.

“Jamie,” he croaked, fingers closing around James’ shirt, stumbling into him.

Sirius finally slipped back into the bedroom an hour later, finally tired after pacing the living room until the terror sank away, with James coaxing him down from the edge. Remus was already facing away, asleep or feigning sleep, face pressed into his pillow. With a sigh, Sirius slid into bed behind him, pressing against the lines of his body to try and abate the shakes running through his own limbs. Usually, when Sirius climbed back into bed after a nightmare, Remus was warm and pliant, wrapping around him with a soft noise that felt like it meant _welcome back_. For a moment, Sirius thought he would get nothing at all, but then Remus slowly shifted, turning to press a sleepy kiss against Sirius’ temple. It wasn’t a cuddle, wasn’t the same way they usually slid together, but it was _enough._


	3. Chapter 3

Sirius huffed a sigh as he and James climbed from the bike. He had only fallen asleep as the first dregs of sunlight were peeking over the horizon the night before, his mouth pressed against Remus’ shoulder. It took a moment for Sirius to brace himself for the world as he took his helmet off and unzipped his jacket against the still-mild September air.

He hadn’t meant to snap at Remus, to push him away or hurt him, but everything was so raw at 3am with Orion’s voice in his ear, that he hadn’t thought before he spoke. Really, he should’ve been grateful that Remus had spoken to him at all that morning, but when Remus stepped into the bedroom after his shower and genuinely asked after Sirius’ wellbeing, something lodged in his throat.

Sirius knew this would happen. He knew that as soon as Remus knew how bad his nightmares could get that he would treat Sirius differently. And it had happened. He saw the pity in Remus’ amber eyes when Remus glanced over to watch Sirius pull on his shirt and shove a hand through his hair. He heard it in his tone of voice when he asked Sirius if he was _sure_ he didn’t want a cup of tea this morning, he’d already made a pot after all. He felt it in the way Remus set a hand on his lower back as they walked down the stairs. It was the same but it was different.

Sirius couldn’t shake the feeling that Remus thought _less_ of him, now that he knew just how broken Sirius was. Would it only be a matter of time until it all fell apart? Or would they keep going until it was just a shell, barely held together by resentment?

“C’mon Pads.” James clapped Sirius on the shoulder and started towards the shop. James looked as tired as Sirius felt, and he didn’t miss the look in James’ hazel eyes. The same look he had seen that night after the Black Christmas Party that said _I’m worried about you, but you’ll be alright,_ the same look he saw every night stood at the kitchen sink, or in the morning when James saw the tired look on Sirius’ face. James had unwavering faith, James was the kind of unfailingly optimistic person who thought that it would all come right in the end if they just _tried_.

So whilst James knew how bad his nightmares got, James knew he sometimes just needed a hug, James knew the sound of Sirius’ screams, he didn’t get the same feeling of _pity_ from James that he did from Remus. It was the pity Sirius detested.

Sirius stepped into the shop, ready for the day, able to push aside his neuroses and put on his happy face like he had done for years. Lily was already at the desk, making sure all the paperwork was prepared for their clients.

Remus stepped out of the office with several mugs, setting them down on the workbench. “Hey. I made tea.”

Sirius smiled and scooped the mug up with one hand. “Hey, thanks.” The tea was just how Sirius liked it on a tired morning - a little too sugary, strong and black. Usually, Sirius took his tea with milk and no sugar, but after a rough night, the former was usually preferred. Somehow it irked him that Remus had made his tea like that without asking. That he’d _noticed_ Sirius took his tea differently when he wasn’t feeling well. What was that meant to mean?

As Remus moved past back into the office, he squeezed his fingers affectionately around Sirius’ wrist. “Oh, and I thought donuts for breakfast?”

“Sure,” Sirius muttered, shoulders tightening a little. There he went again, doting on Sirius. Just because Remus had finally seen Sirius for what he was didn’t mean he had to treat him differently. Would Remus giving Sirius another cup of tea with an extra sugar just how he liked it when he was tired or offering donuts for breakfast make the nightmares better? No. Sirius was still broken.

It only got worse as the day went on. Remus gave Sirius the last chocolate iced donut because they were his favourites. Remus held his hand a little tighter when they sat at the workbench, Sirius sketching away with his other hand. Remus sprang from the sofa when Sirius stepped out from his room after a client, offered his seat, smiled, offered to make tea or go and get his favourite kind of sandwich from the bakery across the road or-

“ _No!_ ” Sirius hadn’t realised the word was out of his mouth at first, but then he was shouting with his fists clenched at his sides and shoulders hunched. “I’m _fine_ , okay? Just- just leave it. Just- stop, will you?”

James stilled at the workbench and Sirius heard Lily stop clanging the tea mugs in the office.

Remus opened his mouth as if to say something, then nodded curtly. He peered at Sirius a moment longer, and then, as if he were waiting for something that never came, turned away. “Prongs, you want anything from the bakery?”

Sirius just stood there, arms hanging by his sides, as Remus collected lunch orders from James and Lily, then strode past Sirius without a glance.

 _Godammit._ He couldn’t get any of this right, could he?

James pushed his wheeled stool back from the bench and turned to look at Sirius. “He’s just trying to be _nice_ , you know.”

“I-” Sirius shrugged, pushing one hand through his hair to snag the elastic out of it and let his hair fall down around his shoulders. He snapped the elastic a few times against his wrist before burying his hands in his pockets, feeling like a child getting scolded, like Euphemia was disappointed in him for getting upset and breaking a handful of crockery again.

James held up one hand, the one with the Gryffindor lion on the back and the _L_ for Lily on his ring finger. “I’m not mad, I just- just want to make you aware that he’s trying to be nice, Padfoot.”

“Yeah…” Sirius breathed, sinking down onto the sofa.

“He doesn’t know how to help, and he wants to try and do what he can.”

Lily stepped out of the office with a fresh round of tea and set it down on the desk. She was pressing her lips together in a way that Sirius knew meant she wanted to say something but felt she shouldn’t. With a sigh, Lily sat on the other end of the sofa.

“This morning, he asked me if you had nightmares that bad a lot.” Lily sipped her own tea and stared at the floorboards. “I said you two should talk about it together.”

“…If we knew how to talk,” Sirius sighed, taking his tea as James passed it to him and blowing away the plume of steam that rose from its surface.

James just nodded and Lily let out this sad little puff of breath, and then Sirius’ next client stepped through the door and the rest of the day was lost to a whirlwind of work and avoiding problems.

By the time Sirius drew breath he was with Lily on their way back home, his sister-in-law’s arms around his waist on the bike, and her voice chattering in his ear.

“Frank and Alice are free for once this evening, so they’ll meet us at the Three Sweeps. Peter says he and Mary might pop along for a pint, and Dorcas and Marlene, of course.” Lily paused as Sirius dug in to overtake a slow-moving car. “You’ll be alright tonight, Padfoot?”

“I’ll be fine, Lils. I’m always fine, aren’t I?” Sirius said on a smile.

 

Heaven was alive, a sprawling mass of people and music and drinks. Maybe there were a few shows or gigs on in town, or maybe it just felt like that because Sirius wanted to get lost in the crowd tonight.

Remus wasn’t on the dance floor. He was in their booth, by himself, phone in one hand, a rum and coke in the other. Sirius had tried to get him to dance earlier, already pliant and fuzzy with margaritas, but Remus had shaken him off. Sirius had shrugged a shoulder, a veil of nonchalance over his features, and just danced with Marlene and Peter and Alice instead. But the distance between them felt so obvious tonight.

Sirius had been too sharp with his words, pushed Remus away when finally Remus had offered him some kind of openness, not opened up himself when he should’ve. But now he didn’t know how to fix it and Remus was all but ignoring him for his phone.

 _Maybe he’s on Tinder_ , a sinuous voice in Sirius’ head that sounded a lot like Regulus whispered. Remus did used to hook up when they went to Heaven before, but now he and Sirius were an item and Sirius was sure he’d never seen Remus look at anyone else since then. They had danced a lot together, all the Saturday nights before now, wound around each other, sweat-sheened and laughed into each other’s mouths until Dorcas nudged them both and told them to ‘keep it PG’.

 _Well, you’re not sleeping together, are you?_ The voice piped up again, twisting into Sirius’ sore spots, needling that he and Remus still hadn’t figured out the sex thing. One of them would have to give. True, the blowjobs were fantastic and there were plenty of other ways to fuck that didn’t involve getting it up the arse, but that was society for you, wasn’t it? It felt… _incomplete_ until then.

Sirius weaved through the crowd from the bar, having downed a handful of shots with Frank and Mary - the latter of which was a surprisingly awful influence - and stomped up to their table. Remus glanced up and immediately shoved his phone down into his lap and Sirius noticed and tried not to think of how his blood boiled.

“Come on, let’s go for a smoke,” Sirius said, holding his hand out. He was half-expecting Remus to refuse, make up some story or just say no, but to his surprise, Remus took his hand and slid out of the booth. It was the first time they’d looked each other in the eye since Sirius had shouted at Remus that afternoon in the shop.

Outside, Sirius watched through a menthol haze as Remus rolled a cigarette with quick, skilled fingers, and leant forward to spark the end to life with his lighter. Remus muttered a thank you and leant against the wall next to him.

Silence. The courtyard spun around Sirius, drunk on vodka and wishing the world wasn’t the way it was. He could tell by the way Remus was leaning against the wall that he was drunk too, everything slowly revolving around them as if they were in their own little bubble just for tonight.

Sirius watched the end of his cigarette slowly turn to ash. “We don’t talk, do we?”

“No…” Remus sighed around a pull of his cigarette. “We don’t, do we?” Remus’ eyes flickered across to him, then back along the rest of the smoking area.

Sirius crossed one arm over his middle, also looking around, not daring to make eye contact. “So, tell me what’s wrong.”

Remus’ head dropped back against the brickwork and Sirius couldn’t help but stare at the way his throat shifted under the light, the piercing there shining. His eyes flickered shut and for a wild moment Sirius though _this is it, I’ll be looking at him looking like_ ** _that_** _under the lamplight and he’ll say, I’m done, we’re done, it’s done._

“We’re drunk.”

“Alcohol makes you honest, doesn’t it?” Sirius said, words biting like vodka. The bass of the club pounded against the wall, distant in Sirius’ ears for the huff of his own breath and the shifting of Remus’ feet.

“Maybe it makes _you_ honest.”

“Why won’t you tell me? Do you not trust me? Is it something I’ve done? Tell me Moony. Tear me down already, will you?”

Remus sighed and Sirius felt his heart ache. “Tell me about your nightmares then. Let me in. Let me help you. Or am I not good enough?”

“That’s rich. I know you’re hiding something.”

Remus rolled his eyes and threw away the spent butt of his cigarette. “We know how that ended last time Sirius. Nothing on Google about this, is there?”

Sirius stilled, acid boiling through his veins. “That’s low, Moony.”

Remus smiled but it was sad, paired with a jerky lift of one shoulder. “Now you know how I feel when you go for the kill, Padfoot.” Remus shifted, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh, we’re doing that, are we?” Sirius growled and threw away his own cigarette butt, heedless of his voice rising.

“I don’t know, what are we doing?”

“You’re being fucking obtuse, that’s what.”

“And you aren’t?!” Remus threw up one hand in exasperation and Sirius was determined not to flinch away from it.

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Maybe I don’t want to, because you act like petulant child when I don’t spill my guts immediately.”

“Coming from someone who hasn’t spoken to me all day because I snapped at him!” Sirius threw up his own hand, getting halfway through raking a hand through his hair before he realised it always irritated him when James did that.

“You haven’t spoken to me!”

“You’re being fucking _ridiculous_.”

“So are you!” Remus spat before he huffed out a breath, and Sirius watched his fists clench at his sides.

 _Fucking go on then,_ Sirius thought, and it was only when Remus shook his head and laughed a humourless laugh that Sirius realised he had said it out loud. _In for a penny, in for a pound, then._

“Go on then, fucking hit me. Christ knows everyone else has in my fucking life,” Sirius said, one hand coming up to shove at Remus’ shoulder.

Remus grabbed Sirius’ wrist, harder than he expected, fingers biting into the roses tattooed there. “Fucking don’t Pads. Don’t pull your fucking tortured soul act right now.”

Sirius laughed and tried to wrench his wrist out of Remus’ grip, no nails digging in this time, no claws, no Walburga screaming, just Sirius and the face he fell asleep to every night. “Fuck you, Remus, fucking tortured soul _act_!?”

Remus bared his teeth and yanked hard on Sirius’ wrist, most likely intending to pull him around out of the smoking area because now they were shouting and people were looking. But Sirius dug his heels in and instead only pulled their bodies together, slamming into Remus’ torso, free hand coming up to try and steady himself as the world spun. Remus let out a surprised little puff of breath at the strength between them, stopping as they pressed together, a note of surprise in the rise of one eyebrow.

Then Sirius leant up and kissed Remus because he could do nothing else when he was this close, warm breath over Sirius’ face, his eyes like fire. Remus resisted for a half-second, until he sank into Sirius and slid a hand through his hair.

Need racketed through Sirius like wildfire, his and Remus’ chemistry sparking like a lit match, like a fuel leak, like a miscalculated chemical reaction, like everything fucking _wrong_ in the world. Sirius’ hands were in Remus’ shirt, bunching through the material, yanking him closer to slide a knee between his legs and press closer, closer, closer. Remus’ fingers wound into Sirius’ hair, pulling his body into pliant honey, moaning hot puffs of breath into Sirius’ mouth. Remus was all long lines of tension against Sirius, hard planes of his stomach against Sirius’ belt buckle, the roll of his hips that Sirius knew all too well, his mouth demanding and hot and everything Sirius adored and needed and wanted. Sirius gave back, sinking into Remus’ embrace, tonguing over the slide of Remus’ lip ring, questing for the sharp tang of his tongue piercing in the warmth of his mouth.

“Hey- hey!” An impatient voice sounded next to them, and Sirius pulled back - head spinning, starstruck, bewildered - to see a group of girls, one at the front looking somewhere between affronted and concerned. “You alright?” She was looking right at Sirius, a look in her eyes.

 _Oh._ He could see how they would reach a conclusion like that - the two of them arguing, shouting, _screaming_ , Remus’ hand on his wrist, and a kiss that must’ve still rang as _anger_ through the courtyard - but Sirius shook his head, tendrils of hair swirling around him. He grabbed Remus’ hand, squeezing tightly.

“Fine, fine. Honestly, we’re fine. Too-” Sirius glanced at Remus, the way he was panting softly, amber eyes only for Sirius- “too much to drink.”

“Yeah,” Remus breathed, and his voice seemed shaky with unresolved desire.

Sirius nodded decisively at the girls before he pulled Remus with him out of the smoking area and down the street. Remus’ hand fell on the small of his back, the sliver of skin there from where his shirt had ridden up slightly, hot like a brand, hard-wired to the part of Sirius that _wanted_. Sirius hissed out a breath, unable to take it any longer, and pulled Remus into the mouth of some dingy looking alley only moments from Heaven, both figuratively and literally.

Remus was on him in an instant, hands dragging all over Sirius in familiar adoration, mouth tipping to his in desperate kisses. Sirius moaned, biting at Remus’ bottom lip, hands pressing down his back to push them closer.

“Moons,” Sirius moaned, tilting to the side to kiss along Remus’ jaw as Remus crowded him against the wall. Anger still flickered between them both, tasting on their kisses like acid but so fucking _hot_. Sirius’ fingers slid to Remus’ belt, pulling him closer, sliding their hips together to press into the hot lines of their arousal.

“Fuck, Pads- how the fuck a- _ah_!” Remus ground out, reaching down to palm over Sirius’ cock.

Their bodies slotted together, limbs tangled, pressed closer with the slow, pointed roll of their hips that sent sparks of pleasure shooting through Sirius’ limbs.

“God, you’re fucking-” Sirius hissed around a bite of Remus’ neck, still alive with anger and emotion and all the tension of fucking _days_ of snipping at each other. Sirius couldn’t stop his hips snapping forward in a search for friction and _fuck_ , he was close already, tangled with Remus, not knowing where he stopped and Remus started.

Remus groaned, low and long, and Sirius felt the telltale shudder of his shoulders as he crested the wave of his orgasm. Sirius tilted his head back to look at Remus’ face, eyebrows pitched together, teeth pulling at his bottom lip. God Sirius _adored_ him, and he was coming too, gasping into Remus’ neck, Remus’ fingers in his hair, Remus’ groin pressed against his.

“Why are we like this?” Remus breathed into Sirius’ hair, voice tender and sad and aching and his fingers shook for holding onto Sirius’ hips.

Sirius shook his head, let a quiet whimper slip from his mouth and held on just as tight. “I don’t know, Moons. I don’t know.”

In quiet aftermath, unsure of what to say to each other, Sirius and Remus stumbled out of the alleyway and hailed the next cab to scream past them, a silent agreement that it would perhaps be better if they just went home. Sirius’ teeth were a red brand on Remus’ neck and Remus’ fingers left twisted hollows in Sirius’ hair as they leant against each other in the silence of the taxi, still panting for breath.

Sirius lead the way up the stairs, pulling keys from his pocket and letting them both into the silence of the flat. James and Lily were still at Heaven, and probably would be for hours. Sirius toed off his boots by the door, watched Remus do the same to his brogues, and padded after him into their bedroom.

Moonlight flooded into the room, casting silver over everything in long shards, the jacket Remus had hung from the handle of the wardrobe, Sirius’ favourite Queen shirt overtop of it, both of their clothes piled on the chair waiting to be put away, the rumpled bedding, their pyjamas strewn amongst the quilt, the lube on the bedside table, two phone chargers, two lighters, the two of them so together, together, together.

Sirius closed the gap between them and took Remus’ face in his hands. His eyes were still so warm and amber despite all the silver around them both. Sirius could feel his own jaw quivering a little, aware of his vulnerability, and for once, doing nothing to quash it. He wanted Remus to see. “Tell me what’s wrong, Moony. _Please_.”

Remus’ hands braced on Sirius’ shoulders, one thumb stroking over the wings of the hawk at his throat. “I-”

Sirius just waited. Like Sarah did, just waited, left Remus the space to feel comfortable, feel safe, feel wanted and seen and noticed and maybe it was the drink or the orgasm or fuck knows what, but Remus tipped his head forward and pressed their foreheads together. “Today is the anniversary of my accident.”

“Oh.”

“And-” Remus blinked, long and slow, wavering slightly on his feet. Sirius stepped closer, smoothing a thumb across the high point of Remus’ cheek that bloomed so lovely in the silver light. “And this is the only fucking time of the year anyone from back home says _anything_ to me, so I can’t even fucking forget it and try to carry on like normal because all I can think of is lying in the fucking forest waiting to _die_.”

“Moons…” Sirius had manoeuvred them to the bed somehow, still holding onto Remus like he was keeping him together, curled protectively around him.

Remus’ tears fell hot against Sirius’ fingers.

“I’m sorry, Pads, I’m sorry, I just-” Remus sank into him a little, hand covering his, eyes fluttering closed.

“It’s okay, Moons.” Sirius just held on, smoothing his thumb over the slowly tracking tears at the corner of Remus’ eyes, feeling his own eyes grow prickly and warm with tears.

Remus nodded, heaving a shaky breath, as they both sank backwards into the pillows. “I thought- I thought if I could just pretend it wasn’t happening, pretend I was okay, that you wouldn’t notice or care or- I dunno Pads, I just didn’t want anything to be wrong. I wanted to carry on like normal and not be so fucking _stupid_ -” Remus’ voice broke and Sirius’ heart cracked too- “but I can’t. He’s… I dunno, _fuck_. I just- I don’t want this.”

Sirius nodded, tightening his arm around Remus’ shoulders, reaching for his hand to squeeze their fingers together. “Yeah…”

Sirius felt Remus’ phone vibrate in his pocket just a moment before the other man scrambled to pull it out. Sirius saw the screen filled with messages just a moment before Remus clenched his fingers around it. Sirius caught his hand just a moment before Remus flung it across the room.

“Hey- hey, don’t do that-” Sirius eased the phone from his fingers, words soft and gentle, trying not to think about how his own hands were shaking. He fumbled for a moment until he managed to turn the phone off and deposit it face down on the bedside table.

Remus puffed out a breath and sank back against the headboard, pressing his hands over his face. He was still painted in beautiful stripes of silver, filtering over the length of his body and Sirius wanted to raze the world for what it had done to him. “I’m sorry, Pads, I’m so-”

“Don’t apologise, Moony. You don’t have anything to apologise for.” Sirius shifted closer and tangled their legs together, pulling Remus into him, hoping to give them both some kind of comfort with their way their bodies always slotted together like two halves of a whole.

“I get- I try to get away from it, I don’t talk to them, but _every year_ , they come along and try to make me feel worse about it all. I was… sixteen, you know?”

Sirius shivered at the words. Hadn’t he said just the same things himself, to Regulus, to his mother, to his cousin, to James, in the middle of the night?

“Me too…” He pressed his mouth into Remus’ hair, tasting the cigarette smoke and the alcohol of Heaven and his shampoo. Sirius’ eyes were stinging with tears for them both, both sixteen and hurting, both twenty-four and hurting and not knowing how to move past it. “I was sixteen, too. Everything was unfair and I couldn’t leave it behind as much as I wanted to.”

Remus stilled, turning a little so his body was angled towards Sirius, seeking comfort and finding it in Sirius’ arms wound tight around his shoulders. After what felt like an age, Sirius’ chest trembling with untold emotion, Remus shivering in syncopation with him, Remus tipped back a little and looked up to Sirius, one hand going to his cheek.

Remus’ amber eyes were glittering with tears, and he was sixteen and broken and looking for _something_. And there was Sirius, his fingers to the curve of Remus’ cheek, his eyes stinging with tears too, feeling sixteen and broken and looking for _something_.

“I know you,” Sirius whispered as Remus pressed their noses together. “ _I know you_.” Was he saying it for Remus or for himself?

Sirius thought for so long he was sleeping next to a stranger, but Remus was _just like him,_ just as lost and lonely and struggling and needing the same way Sirius was. They were in the ocean together.

“I know, I know,” Remus whispered, his gaze flickering over Sirius’ face. “God, I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sorry too, for all of it, fucking _all of it_.” Sirius shook his head, a few tears streaking down the side of his nose that he made no attempt to sniff back because Remus was crying too. They were both just fucking crying and holding on and not willing to let go.

“I know.” Remus shuddered, eyes flickering up to Sirius’ hairline where he brushed fingertips against the stray hairs there. He found the scar there, silvered and thin, the twin to the gouge in Orion’s desk, and touched it with the same reverent fingertips Sirius touched the scars on his arms. “ _I know you._ ”

Then they were sobbing, holding onto each other, twined together and sobbing into each others shoulders through the shudders that wracked them both. Sirius buried his face in Remus’ neck and felt the shoulder of his shirt grow wet with Remus’ tears like the floodgates had opened and neither of them would ever be able to close them again because here they fucking were, finally, together and hurting but _hurting together_.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Oooh, Insta pic at the bottom this time!)  
> On a more Sirius note: I'm sorry this was late you guys, IRL has been kicking my ass. I have a lot of fics in progress right now, for fests and other things and I don't think I can keep up with weekly updates now my real-life job is also getting busy, etc etc.  
> But I am trying to update as often as I can whilst still making sure these chapters are exactly how I want them and good enough for you guys! I hope you all understand? I didn't want to change how often I update, but something's gotta give!  
> The best thing to do so you don't miss a chapter is either subscribe to this fic, or follow me on [Tumblr!](https://jennandblitz.tumblr.com) I love you guys!


	4. Chapter 4

 

_I was ten and he beat me unconscious with the fire poker for the first time._

_I was fourteen and I thought I was broken until he turned up._

_I was thirteen and I realised it was abuse._

_I was fifteen and in love._

_I was sixteen and unwillingly high on cocaine._

_I was sixteen and I thought I would die._

_I’m twenty-four and I still hear his voice._

_I only realised last year it wasn’t love._

_I wake up to her leaning over me._

_I wonder if I’ll run into him every single day._

_I still hurt._

_I still hurt._

Sirius didn’t wake up screaming, but he woke with his mouth at Remus’ throat in a soft kiss, his own throat raw with tears, his cheeks itchy with the dried salt of those tears, the neck of his shirt damp. Both of them were still clothed, atop the covers, tangled there after midnight confessions and secrets that came spilling from sobbing lips with nothing to stop them at all and just to listen, and hear and see and _know_.

Remus stirred shortly after he did, and Sirius could see the moment the previous night’s memories returned to him. He rolled over towards Sirius, throwing an arm around his waist, fingers seeking out the dip of his spine where the dragon lay.

“Hey you,” Sirius breathed, pressing a kiss to Remus’ jaw, eager to preserve and catalogue this new closeness between them now.

Remus smiled and shifted a little, pressing their lips together in a lingering kiss. “Hey…” He pulled back enough to look at Sirius, who took the opportunity to devour the look of Remus so open in the late morning light. The bags under his eyes were dark, his lips pink and raw from being nervously bitten, but he looked so beautiful. “You okay?”

Sirius found the answer came easily. Nothing stopped behind his teeth or lodged in his throat and he could tell the truth. “Yeah, I think I am.” A kiss pressed to Remus’ lips to savour the soft exhale of his breath. “Are you?”

“Yeah, yeah, I think so too…”

“Yeah?” Sirius raised an eyebrow, watching Remus, who had always seemed so detached, but now he felt utterly solid and present and _here_. _Stay here_ , Sirius thought, fingers on the line of Remus’ bicep, _stay here, stay present. Stay with me_.

“Yeah.” Remus drew him in for another kiss, tender and soft, his fingers tilting through Sirius’ hair and Sirius sank into it, treasuring every moment until he pulled back for breath.

“We’re okay?” Sirius said, biting his lip, regretting the words as soon as they came out of his mouth. _What if they weren’t?_

“Yeah, Pads. I think we are, don’t you?” Remus smiled, his amber eyes glittering, his mouth pink from kisses.

“Yeah… _fuck_ -” Sitting up and stretching his arms over his head, Sirius tried to blink away the last of the night, shocked he hadn’t woken up to the crows. But they were still there, he knew. Maybe they had just been chased away last night by how utterly exhausted they had both been. “Tea? Breakfast? What’s the bet James and Lily are up already?”

Remus chuckled and watched Sirius climb off the bed before he sat up. “Mm, James is already up, showered, dressed, disgustingly okay - maybe he’s at the corner shop getting bacon… Lily will be awake, but still in her pyjamas.”

“That sounds right,” Sirius agreed as he snatched his phone from the bedside table and flicked through notifications. A few from James, Lily and Dorcas. Apparently he’d typed out something along the lines of _we’re home, we’re okay_ , amongst all the tears last night. Marlene was upset her dancing partner had deserted her, but it would be fine.

Sirius glanced up to find Remus still sat on the edge of the bed, staring at his phone. His knuckles were white around the edges of it and his mouth twitched slightly. That telltale sign of tension shuddered over his shoulders and Sirius ached for it.

“Hey,” Sirius dropped his own phone onto the bed and sat next to him, peering over his shoulder to see the endless scroll of messages. “You know,” Sirius started, his fingers going to Remus’ and gently easing them from his phone. “When I get things from the family, like- like at the party, Prongs takes my phone and gets rid of all the notifications for me, answers what needs to be answered, tells people to fuck off…”

Remus hummed something noncommittal, still staring at his phone despite it having shifted to Sirius’ hands. With his free hand, Sirius linked their fingers and squeezed them together, hoping to ground Remus a little, pull him back.

“So, how about-” Sirius paused to punch in the passcode, he’d done it often enough to access their shared playlists- “I do the same for you, and I can get rid of it all. Tell them your city boyfriend says fuck off.”

He’d intended the last part as a joke - not that he was above telling any backwater idiots to clear off - but Remus’ eyes widened and he looked sixteen and broken and beautiful with the way the morning light trickled over him. “Would you, Pads?”

Sirius let his head drop onto Remus’ shoulder - his button-up had come mostly undone during the night, leaving a sliver of lightly-tanned skin exposed - and smiled into a kiss he pressed there. “Of course, Moons. Any time too, just hand me your phone and I’ll fix it, tell them all to just fucking leave you alone.”

A weight seemed to lift from Remus’ shoulders as he smiled against Sirius’ temple. “Thank you, Padfoot.”

In the living room, Remus’ predictions came true. Lily was on the sofa, pyjama-clad, nursing a cup of tea. James, forever hangover-impervious, stood at the stove, frying bacon. Remus went to help James out with tea and sandwiches as Sirius sat on the sofa next to Lily.

She nudged him with her foot and mouthed, “You alright?”

Sirius, pausing in unlocking Remus’ phone, smiled and nodded. “Yeah, we are.”

Lily seemed a little taken aback by how genuine Sirius’ smile must’ve looked - because it fucking felt like the sun - but she smiled too and settled back to flipping through the Sunday morning television. Sirius watched the light play across her face as she flicked past Jeremy Kyle and some Sunday morning talk show before his eyes slid over to the two in the kitchen. James was wiggling his hips to some music just barely filtering through the archway to the living room, stood at the stove like he was a King and it was his Kingdom. To be fair, James was great at bacon. Remus was next to him, shimmying his shoulders to the music too, making tea for them all. God, he was beautiful, he was perfect, the long lines of him, the way he was meshing with their lives the longer he was with them, blurring edges with them all, he and Sirius, together. He could barely remember what it was like to wake up _without_ Remus there, but was that just wishful thinking?

Shifting on the sofa a little, Sirius scrolled through Remus’ phone, shocked by the amount of messages there. Some of them dated back nearly a week, but were still unread. Most of them were the generic _Thinking of You_ texts or chats, but some of them were disgusting. A handful were berating Remus for leaving and ‘running away’ because he wasn’t the only one who had to deal with Greyback. How dare they think that? Remus was _well_ within his right to get the hell out of the town and the place that caused him pain - hadn’t Sirius? - and to hear that people he knew, people he called friends, were berating him for that? What the hell gave them the right? Sirius took a deep breath, trying to be the better man and not reply to most of the messages with long strings of expletives. A few names stood out to him, senders of particularly nasty messages, and Sirius thought that if he ever ended up in Wales he would go set a few people straight. Because, how dare they? They clearly didn’t see what he saw, what James and Lily saw, what his old flatmates must’ve seen or Frank and Alice. They thought Remus got off lucky because Greyback didn’t turn his particular brand of disgusting activities onto Remus explicitly?

“Pads.” Remus’ voice was soft as he set a hand on Sirius’ knee, who immediately realised just how tight he was holding Remus’ phone. Remus settled next to him and held a mug of tea out for him, his eyes asking a million questions, flickering between Sirius and his phone. “Alright?”

Sirius smiled tightly, taking the tea and leaning in to kiss Remus on the cheek. “If- if these people say anything like this to you again, _please_ , tell me. It’s not-” he paused a little to think on the words, resting his forehead onto Remus’ temple- “This isn’t on you. They’re talking shit.”

Remus didn’t say anything, just nodded and sank into the sofa with this strange glazed look in his eyes, the hand not holding his tea reaching over for Sirius’ and linking their fingers. Remus’ thumb stroked over his knuckles and Sirius held on to that feeling, letting it wash away the lingering anger at the way those people spoke to Remus. But he was away from them now, Sirius could help him, look after him, keep those bastards away from him and maybe they could both start healing.

James came over, balancing several plates of bacon sandwiches, and passed two towards Sirius and Remus. Sirius wondered how much he would get ripped apart if he attempted to eat his sandwich without letting go of Remus’ hand like some schoolgirl with a crush. He relented eventually and squeezed Remus’ hand before starting on his sandwich.

“Oh, Mum phoned earlier, Pads,” James said between bites of his own breakfast. Sirius quirked an eyebrow to say he was listening. “She said to come down for Sunday dinner now they’re back from the Maldives. She’s _really_ upset you haven’t introduced her to Moony yet.”

Sirius chuckled - he could already hear Euphemia in his head saying _young man, how have you kept this lovely boyfriend a secret for so long?_ \- and glanced over to Remus. “Fancy a trip to the Potters?”

“I mean, I don’t think she’s giving us a choice, Pads. She said ‘you’re coming for dinner’ and that was that.” James was laughing too, but they both knew getting on Euphemia’s bad side was a wrong move.

“I’d like to meet them, yeah, if that’s good with you guys…” Remus wiped his mouth and looked between the three as if they might say no, as if Remus wasn’t the right sort of person to bring back to meet the parents.

“You’ll be immediately part of the family, Moony. Momma Effie will check in on you and send you jumpers and biscuits and she’ll be _really_ upset if you don’t spend Christmas with us all this year.” Lily grinned, leaning over to pat Remus on the knee. She knew how fiercely mothering Euphemia was - when she and James finally got together, she was instantly the doted-upon daughter-in-law. “Just so you know.”

Remus laughed, reaching across for Sirius’ hand again. “I’d like that I think.”

“Then it’s settled!” James drained his tea mug and set it down on the coffee table. “We’ll head down in an hour or two? Weather’s meant to be nice, you can put the top down on the car Lils.”

Sirius smiled, squeezing Remus’ hand in a way he hoped the other man knew meant _you alright?_ and Remus smiled back. Christ, he was so beautiful. Seeing James and Lily engaged in conversation, Sirius leant over to press his mouth into the hollow behind Remus’ ear. “I’m going for a shower and I think I want some company.”

Remus chuckled softly, but there was a blush settling over the top of his cheeks and then Sirius was pulling him onto his feet and saying something sing-song but unimportant to James and Lily and then they were in the bathroom, kissing like they were starving. Lily’s laugh tinkled through the flat as Sirius pressed Remus back into the door and licked into his mouth, hands roaming over his shoulders. Remus fumbled in his hoodie pocket to pull out his phone and set some music playing, discarding his phone onto the vanity.

They shed their clothes quickly, pushing pyjamas aside and pulling shirts off with seemingly-renewed fervour. Remus kissed over the salt of dried tears atop Sirius’ cheeks as they stepped into the shower and Sirius thought he had never felt more content that he did now, steam swirling around them in this new closeness that felt terrifying and exhilarating all at once. There was something intimate about sharing a shower, not just the sex part - which Sirius hoped would come next - but the way Remus would tilt his chin up towards the spray to wash the shampoo away, or when Sirius reached past him for shower gel Remus leant his temple against Sirius’ bicep and kissed the tender skin on the inside of his arm.

Sirius leant in to kiss him properly, sliding one hand through Remus’ curls to the back of his head to pull him closer. Remus obliged, pressing their bodies together, the lines of them intermingling as Remus’ tongue found the seam of Sirius’ lips and his hands roamed the length of Sirius’ back. Remus’ kisses always took Sirius’ breath away, every one of them, from the chaste to the filthy, from the angry ones to the little affectionate pecks on the corner of his mouth in passing in the shop. Their lives were so intertwined now, living together, working together, falling asleep together, everything so connected, and after last night, after that openness, after their ocean, afloat together, clinging together. And now this water, the heat between them, affection, adoration. It felt baptismal.

Remus broke their kiss on a gasp as Sirius curled fingers around his cock, now pressing into Sirius’ hip at the heat of their kisses. “Christ, Pads,” he breathed after a second. “I know- _ah_ , I can say thank you, but I want- _ah_ , I want to show it too.”

Opening his eyes and swiftly blinking away the water, Sirius glanced down to see Remus sinking to his knees, one hand sliding up Sirius’ thigh to cup his arse, the other already closing around the base of his cock, feather light. Sirius couldn’t help but tilt his hips forward a little, breath catching in his throat, staring down through the water streaming over them both. “Moony…”

“Mmm?” Remus murmured, kneeling up to lick a hot stripe up the underside of Sirius’ cock. His tongue piercing was warm and cool at the same time, rolling over with sensation as Sirius let his eyes shut momentarily to try and weather the rush of pleasure. Fuck, Remus was so good at this. Beneath him, Remus chuckled and tightened his fingers a little, letting his tongue swirl in broad swaths over Sirius’ cock, tasting every inch of him. Sirius’ hand fell to his hair, pushing back the sopping curls that clung to his forehead and brushing his thumb over Remus’ temple.

“Fuck, Moons,” Sirius whimpered, trying to keep his voice down a little because James and Lily were still in the flat and music didn’t cover _all_ manner of sins. Remus only responded with another chuckle in the back of his throat as he swallowed Sirius down to the root, other hand on his arse cheek to pull him forward a little.

Sirius watched him, utterly unable to look away, barely wanting to blink the water out of his eyelashes, trying to catalogue everything at once now it felt like he could see clearly - the hollow of Remus’ cheeks, the way the water trickled down over the lines of his face, caught around the eyebrow piercings, the way it followed the curve of the mandala at his jaw. Teeth on his bottom lip to try and stifle the moans, Sirius tightened his hand in Remus’ hair, watching his head bob up and down, shivering in pleasure at the gentle drag of both his lip ring and tongue piercing until Remus pulled away with a dirty sounding _pop_.

Remus’ eyes were burning bright amber, razing over Sirius’ body as he licked his lips. “Turn around?”

 _Oh_. Sirius shivered at the timbre of his voice, but he didn’t want to- he wasn’t ready to- “Moons, I-”

Remus smiled softly, blood high in his cheeks, lips pink, eyes dark, as he nuzzled along the crease of Sirius’ hip. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just want-” Remus shifted a little, swallowing shallowly as he blinked up at Sirius with those eyes- “to taste you, nothing else.”

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Sirius ushered out on an exhale, turning quickly before he could regret it, facing the wall, forehead on the cool tiles, one hand bracing near his head. He tried to swallow down some vague approximation of nervous anticipation - he had only done this a handful of the times and the other person’s tongue in his arse had been a not-that-great precursor to the lacklustre handful of times he’d bottomed. But with Remus…

Remus’ breath, somehow a little cool in the steamy heat of the shower, ghosted over the cleft of Sirius’ arse as he pressed his mouth against the swell of one cheek, one hand coming around to palm his thigh. Remus’ mouth, gentle but insistent, trailed hot over tender flesh until he could plant an open-mouthed kiss over the pucker of Sirius’ arse. Sirius tried not to jump at the sensation, focusing instead on the way Remus’ hand was curling around his hip to fondle at his balls.

He must’ve relaxed into it a little, because then Remus’ tongue, just as gentle and insistent as his mouth, stroked over his hole and the feeling racketed through him, going straight to his cock. “Ah, _Christ_ , Remus-”

God, Sirius thought, cutting himself off with a throaty moan. He shivered, reaching out to grasp at the shower rail to keep his knees from buckling as Remus lapped over his hole, coiling his tongue, cool puffs of breath over Sirius’ skin. Sirius found he was stepping his legs further apart, tilting his hips back a little, eager for more because Remus’ tongue piercing made him shiver and twitch with every pass of it over tender flesh. Remus hummed something, barely audible over the spray of the shower, the distant music, pressing open-mouthed, wet kisses to Sirius’ hole.

Remus’ hand slid across the soapy remnants over Sirius’ skin, over his hip and down the line of his thigh, to close over his erection, stroking with languid, easy pulls that said something to the way the pair fell into coital bliss together, their pieces fitting as one.

Sirius couldn’t think, couldn’t process anything above Remus’ mouth and Remus’ tongue and Remus’ fingers and the way they seemed to be catching every nerve ending and bundling Sirius up tighter and tighter in affection and adoration and _trust_ and was that moan coming out of _his_ mouth? Everything felt so sensitive in the heat of the shower, the water still falling around them like white noise, everything warm and wet and divine. Whimpering - Christ, that was him, wasn’t it - Sirius fumbled around to grasp onto Remus’ bicep, unable to hold his hand but wanting to hold onto him, wanting to just keep him so close because they were drifting together. The ocean was less scary with the two of them together, with Remus’ mouth, oh God, Remus, Remus, _Remus_.

Sirius came with a cry, muffled into his own shoulder, drawn somewhere between thrusting forward into Remus’ hand or back onto his tongue, caught between them but delirious and happy, gasping and moaning, tiles spattering with come before it was washed down the drain. The only thing in his brain was _Remus, Remus, Remus_.

Remus only pulled back when Sirius sank into him, fingers loosening on his arm, going boneless, heavy, floating in his ocean. Sirius blinked away the pleasure-bright stars blinking on the edge of his vision, his feet feeling unsteady, heady, too much sensation in it all, as Remus trailed his mouth over the small of his back, the tail of the dragon. The point where his hand always fell as they were walking, the point hard-wired to the two of them, to the memory of heated skin and the pure adrenaline of _want_ that seemed like yesterday and years ago all at once.

Sirius turned, still gripping the shower rail with one hand until stability was returned to him, and grasped at Remus’ shoulder with the other. “Up, Moons, up, come _here.”_

Even in the shower, under the hot spray, Remus’ chin was spit-slicked, his lips pink and shiny and Sirius didn’t care when he pushed their lips together in a filthy kiss. Reaching down between them, Sirius wrapped his fingers around Remus’ cock, twisting his wrist just so, swiping his thumb over the bead of pre-come gathering at the tip. Remus was kissing like he was starving, free hand coming up to cup at Sirius’ jaw, all teeth and tongue, biting and sucking, the lingering taste of Sirius’ skin and something deeper between them. For some reason, the knowledge that Remus had been _so_ turned on with his face buried in Sirius’ arse only made him burn all the more, proof that these stupid ideals of tops and bottoms weren’t all about giving and taking and domination and submission and perhaps it was all about what they needed as a couple. Because that’s what they were - a couple, two men entwined together in every possible, unable to tear apart even if they wanted to, unable to face whatever the hell life was without each other now they had found it and been bound together somehow - and this only meant they could do so much more together.

“Pads, _fu_ -” Remus muttered into their kiss as Sirius pressed him back into the tiles, stroking over Remus’ cock as it throbbed deliciously in his palm. Sirius shivered, twisting his wrist to thumb over the slick metal beneath the head. God, Sirius adored him more than anything, more than anything he’d ever felt in the world.

“Your mouth, Moony,” Sirius responded, tilting to the side to kiss along the knife of Remus’ jaw, tongue laving over the scarred mandala there. “Your fucking _mouth_.”

The steam swirled around them, pressed together, Sirius’ mouth against Remus’ jaw, Remus’ breath hitting Sirius’ temple and sending him shivering even as he moved his hand over Remus’ cock, slick with suds and pre-come. Feeling that familiar hitch of breath beneath Remus’ diaphragm, Sirius’ lifted his gaze to watch Remus’ face fall into that beautiful expression, pleasure nearing pain, teeth on his lip ring, eyebrows raising, watching Sirius, watching Sirius watch him. Remus moaned sharply, head tipping back against the tiles, hips canting forwards into the circle of Sirius’ fingers. White-hot ropes spilled onto Sirius’ thigh, running down the cord of muscle for a moment before being whisked away by the water, and Remus was leaning into him, arm tight around his shoulders, seeking out Sirius’ mouth with his.

They kissed languidly, tongues curling together in familiar bliss, hands grasping at planes of thigh, shoulder, hip, just to confirm the other was still present and real and _here_. Sirius smiled into the kiss as he pulled away just enough to speak. “We need to get washed again now.”

Remus’ expression was the perfect picture of deadpan, his deliciously-bitten mouth a soft line, one eyebrow pitched, the piercing there glinting. “Oh no. What a shame.”

Sirius laughed and kissed Remus again.

The album Remus had thrown on had repeated by the time they switched the water off and finally exited the bathroom in a plume of steam, ready for the day. Lily was on the sofa and spared them a glance over the back of it, tearing her eyes away from the repeat of _Love Island_.

James called through from the kitchen, where the sound of water sloshing meant he was probably doing the washing up. “Three things! One, one of you is _definitely_ cleaning the bathroom on chores this week. Two, does _hearing_ sex count for the chalkboard? And three, does hearing _Purple Rain_ -” James poked his head out of the kitchen nook and grinned at them both- “which is absolutely your sex album, count as hearing sex?”

Sirius rolled his eyes and started towards the bedroom, holding Remus’ hand. “Prongs. Unless you _heard_ sex, then you heard _nothing_ , buddy.”

“ _Purple Rain_ should count for something!” Lily agreed from the sofa before standing and stretching. “I hear it often enough I feel like I should get a medal for not crying every time.”

Remus laughed, pausing at the door to their bedroom. “Listen, would you rather hear sex or _Purple Rain_?”

“That’s fair!” James called from back in the kitchen. Lily just rolled her eyes and crosed to the bathroom, ducking inside with a smile on her lips.

With a laugh, Sirius shoved Remus into their bedroom and shut the door.

“We’re leaving in like an hour you two!” James called from the living room. Sirius pressed the back of his hand to his mouth to try and stifle more laughter.

“Put _Purple Rain_ back on,” Sirius said as he crossed the room to snatch up a brush and pull it through his hair.

Remus threw him a glance as he moved to the dresser and pulled on his underwear. “Don’t tell me you never noticed. I _always_ put on _Purple Rain_ , same way you always put on _Electric Warrior_.”

“Usually, Moons,” Sirius said, nudging next to Remus to pull on his own clothes, “I’m too preoccupied by getting off with you to notice the music.” Grinning, he slung an arm around Remus’ waist and pressed his mouth along Remus’ shoulder, taking advantage of his lack of shirt for a moment but careful to avoid the scars there, like always. “You have to admit _Electric Warrior_ is a great sex album though.”

“So is _Purple Rain_ ,” Remus shot back, turning his head a little to kiss Sirius’ forehead. There was a moment’s pause between them, a second of silence as Remus’ hand came to the small of Sirius’ back. “You alright?”

“Mhmm,” Sirius murmured, smiling at Remus, reaching up to touch the mandala at his jaw, forever fascinated with the way it caught the light. “I am, thanks to you and your mouth.”

Rolling his eyes, Remus laughed and stepped away to pull on his shirt and avoid elbowing Sirius in the head. Remus pinned Sirius with a smile as he straightened his collar, amber eyes watching him dress. “I’m absolutely going to make a sex playlist now.”

Sirius threw his head back with laughter, tugging his shirt on and running his hands through his damp hair. “Please do. If it doesn’t contain _Whole Lotta Love_ I’m never going down on you again.”

Remus snorted. “Duly noted, Pads.” He paused, thinking for a moment, biting his lip ring and furrowing his brow. “If it’s repeated a few times, does that mean I get more head?”

“Maybe, if you play your cards right, Moons,” Sirius said, stifling laughter and feeling his heart explode at the look of joy on Remus’ face as he crossed closer and wound his arms around Remus’ middle.

“I’m crazy about you, you know that?” Remus said, pressing a kiss to the corner of Sirius’ mouth as his fingers wound through Sirius’ hair.

Sirius sank into him, head tilting to the side a little, unable to stop the smile curling the corners of his mouth, the warmth that bloomed in his chest, the way his insides churned and everything in his body seemed to scream _yes, this is_ ** _it_.**

“You too, Moons. I’m crazy most of the time, but especially crazy about you.”

Both grinning, Sirius tipped in to kiss Remus, all smiles, teeth, more laughter than lips, warmth, acceptance, affection, trust. “C’mon,” Sirius murmured, tearing himself away, hands on Remus’ shoulders. “Let’s go meet the parents.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look! Another chapter! I'm so sorry this has been a whiiiiile. I've been working on fests, and my IRL things are getting busier (how dare they, I know) but here we are. This was meant to be meeting the parents, but then it turned into rimming in the shower and sexy banter... soooo, sorry? I sort of feel like they deserve it after all the angst recently! Meeting the parents next chapter though!  
> Thank you all for your patience with these chapters, I have so much planned in the next few, I can't wait!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh! Another chapter! Every two weeks seems to be shaping up as when I can write more of these guys - so much is going on right now, but I love these two so much. Thank you all so so much for sticking with me. Your comments and kudos and readership really do make my week.

 

James tapped Sirius on the midriff to get his attention as they pulled onto the country roads leading out of London towards Berkshire and the idyllic Potter Farm.

“Were Lily and I that disgustingly cute when we first got together?” James said, his voice filled with mirth and Sirius could _hear_ the smirk through the intercom.

Sirius tutted, leaning into a corner, eyes scanning in the mirrors for Lily and Remus in the car, but they had already left them behind with a kick of acceleration on the first straight out of the city. “Oh shut up. Of course you were, you were insufferable.”

“So are you,” James bit back through laughter, fingers trailing absently over a loose bit of stitching over the pawprint patch on Sirius’ jacket, comfortable in his affection towards his brother. “Only we were seventeen and you’re twenty-four.”

“I will throw you off this bike if you carry on Prongs.” Sirius could feel his cheeks growing warm, thinking of the kiss he had shared with Remus before they parted for the ride towards Potter Farm, the way Remus had gone pliant against him, still warm and honeyed from earlier, still beautiful and bright-eyed, his hand on Sirius’ back. They had dressed in comfortable silence before meeting James and Lily in the living room, still vaguely blushing and breathless but so content. Sirius had a sneaky suspicion that the pair had also gotten up to something vaguely naughty as they had _gotten ready_ \- James’ hair was even wilder than usual and Lily’s cheeks were even pinker than Sirius’ - but he hadn't _heard_ anything so there was no ammunition to put a tally on the chalkboard. Remus had smiled his enigmatic smile as they went to the car park and he'd stood a little closer to the bike than he had before until he and a Lily climbed into the car and Lily grinned like the sun as she put the roof down.

James snickered before Sirius heard him swallow and there was a moment of silence. “I’m happy for you, Pads. Really. Both of you seem so happy.”

“Yeah,” Sirius smiled, taking his fingers off the handlebars to squeeze James’ arm around his middle for a moment. “We are. Thanks Prongs. I’m… I’m really trying.”

“You got this. Mum will be proud of you.”

“So long as she loves Moony, that’s all I’m fussed about, Prongs,” Sirius agreed as they pulled up to a junction and let a few cars past.

“She will. You know Mum loves everyone,” James muttered as he peered out at the junction, forever a back-seat driver regardless of whether he was on the bike or in the car.

Sirius pulled out with a roar of acceleration before James could tell him it was clear. “Only time I've seen her angry was when she came across Walburga, right?”

“Yeah, fuck, I've never seen her so livid. Serves that fucking hag right,” James hissed as his fingers dug into Sirius’ side. The Black family was the one thing guaranteed to get the Potters angry. Sirius remembered the way Fleamont’s face would darken at the mention of Sirius’ biological family, or the way Euphemia, no matter the time of night, would wake up and make tea as James watched Sirius pace a line in the living room floorboards and coaxed him down from the precipice of mania.

Sirius just hummed something in agreement and opened the throttle of the bike, already thinking of the place his heart called home, and introducing Remus to the same place, trying to share that feeling with him.

James was singing some awful approximation of _The Immigrant Song_ by Zeppelin when they pulled in to the gravel drive of Potter Farm.

“Fleamont!” Sirius heard Euphemia call from the kitchen as he pulled off his helmet; the smell of baking came wafting over from the windows thrown open. “They're here!”

There was a cacophony from somewhere within the house, then Fleamont was at the door, grinning widely and throwing his arms open. “Hello boys! Great day for the bike, hey?” Fleamont enveloped both of the boys in a hug, drawing them into the hallway. “And darling Lily and this new boyfriend of yours are on the way, are they?”

Sirius embraced his adoptive father and moved into the hallway. “Yeah, Moony doesn't like the bike.”

“Another one of those nicknames? What's this boy’s _real_ name, dear?” Euphemia said, bustling into the hallway to pull Sirius in a hug.

“It's Remus, Mum. Hello, you look lovely, this smells _amazing._ ”

“Remus, that’s a wonderful name. Can’t wait to meet him,” Euphemia hummed as she embraced Sirius and then pulled James into a hug. James smiled, his arms around his mother and the unflinching love they all felt at the Potter household. Then Sirius was barrelled into by Bertie, the Potter’s Border Terrier, yapping excitedly. Sirius knelt down and scrubbed a hand through Bertie’s fur, grinning when the dog’s tail thumped a little harder and his tongue lolled from the corner of his mouth, happy to have the two men back in the house.

James sent Lily a quick text - _we’re out the back on the deck, come round x_ \- as they all settled on the back patio - Bertie chasing after a ball Sirius threw for him as he sat down - with a jug of punch between them and Euphemia already fussing. Sirius slid his sunglasses from his pocket onto his nose and enjoyed the peaceful quiet of the Potter Farm, the birds chirping, James, Euphemia and Fleamont chattering.

“Moony says they’re just coming off the motorway, won’t be long,” James interjected, already in an intense conversation with Fleamont about the record player.

“Just in time for dinner then!” Fleamont replied, before he took a breath and jumped back into asking James about the latest jazz record he’d bought - both of them were avid collectors of music in all its forms.

Sirius smiled and nodded in response, a strange lump of nervousness lodging in his throat at the idea of introducing Remus to his adoptive parents, his true family. He just wanted them to love him, to adore and care for him as much as Sirius did.

A feather-light touch on his arm brought Sirius back to earth, and he turned his head to see Euphemia smiling kindly at him. “You alright, dear?”

Sirius nodded, going to say something inane, but actually, he found truth came a little easier at Potter Farm, in such a safe space. With the woman he knew as his mother looking at him so concerned - she hadn’t forgotten his _episode_ after Spain - “Yeah, I- I guess I’m nervous about you meeting Moony.”

“Oh, bless you. If he’s good enough for you, Sirius, we’ll love him,” Euphemia said, her hand still on Sirius’ arm in the best form of motherly love he’d ever known.

Sirius had to laugh, though. “Mum, he’s far _too_ good for me-” Bertie came sprinting up to the deck at that point and Sirius paused to throw the ball back across the grass for him- “He’s… I don’t know, he’s been asking about my nightmares… been asking about… how he can help.” Sirius watched Bertie for a moment, tearing across the grass looking happy as anything. “I want to tell him, but I don’t know where to start….”

Euphemia, with her unfailing affection and hazel eyes, peered at him for a moment before glancing over to Fleamont and James. “We can talk to him if you like. You’re much better now, but it might be good for him to know what you were like, when- well, you know. And I’m sure Jamie would have something to say too, he’s good with your nightmares.”

“Yeah,” Sirius agreed on a shaky breath, the prospect of yet more vulnerability weighing on him as he took Euphemia’s hand and squeezed her fingers. And yet, everything seemed easier at Potter Farm, some strange Eden separated from the real world, where nothing could hurt you. Just for a moment, Sirius breathed, face tilted up to the sun.

“Hello Bertie!” Lily cooed as she stepped through the back gate and was immediately accosted by the terrier running over to her. Remus stepped in beside her and Sirius could see he was nervous, shoulders raised a little, but then Bertie yapped and licked his hand and he was immediately accepted, by the dog at least.

Sirius stood and met Remus halfway to the deck, hugging him briefly. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” Remus replied, his hand settling on Sirius’ back, still looking all honeyed in the midday sunlight, squinting a little, sunglasses pushed atop his head to meet the parents. “Good ride down?”

“Mhmm.” Sirius couldn’t hide the smile that flitted across his features when Remus asked so earnestly of their journey, knowing the other man still held a kernel of anxiety for Sirius being on the bike, born more of his distrust of the machine than Sirius’ ability. “Mum, Dad- this is Remus,” Sirius said, leading him over to the deck where the Potter’s greeted them. “Rem, this is Euphemia and Fleamont Potter.”

Euphemia drew Remus into a hug, brief but full of that motherly affection she couldn’t help but exude, and Fleamont was waiting to offer Remus a firm but friendly handshake when they separated. “Effie and Monty, please,” Fleamont said with a grin as Euphemia embraced Lily and fussed about how well they all looked.

Conversation flowed remarkably easily around a jug of punch, Sirius with one hand clasped around Remus’, cigarette in the other winnowing smoke into the blue sky. Euphemia was smoking one of her cheroots, blowing the smoke away from Fleamont - who had quit on doctor’s orders last year and was still bloody bitter about it - and everything seemed wonderful. Remus’ fingers tapped out an odd rhythm on Sirius’ knuckles as they spoke, some idle approximation that he was fine and enjoying himself well enough.

“Hey,” Sirius said, leaning on the arm of his chair to tip closer to Remus and ensure the words were only meant for him. “I was speaking to Effie earlier, she said-” Sirius bit his lip and huffed a little as Remus turned to look at him, his amber eyes hidden behind sunglasses but the edge of a smile on his lips- “she said if you wanted, she and Monty, and Prongs probably, could talk to you about my nightmares… about what might help.”

Remus tilted his chin towards his chest so he could look at Sirius over the top of his glasses. “You’d want that?”

Sirius nodded, a fresh swirl of hair coming down from the trappings of his hair tie and ghosting over his shoulder like a breath or a passing touch or Remus’ mouth. “Yeah. I-” Sirius halted again, hating himself on a stuttered out-breath for his inability to articulate anything vulnerable- “I want you to know, I just don’t know how to tell you myself.”

“Right,” Euphemia said as the buzzing of the kitchen timer could be heard from across the grass, back in the bustling farmhouse kitchen where they would usually be gathered if it weren’t for the conspicuously good weather this late in the year. “That’s dinner done. Inside then everyone, if you please.”

Then the moment was lost but Sirius made himself promise he would bring it up again, because it was the perfect time, it seemed; their openness together earlier that morning, the strange wash of comfort that sank over him at Potter Farm, the voice in his head that switched from _everything will go wrong_ to _you’re alright, here, love_ , the way Remus’ gaze always slid back to him in conversation, like a beacon or an anchor in their ocean together.

Dinner, like always, was absurdly wonderful. Fleamont and Euphemia were fantastic cooks separately, but when combined for the masterpiece that was a Potter Sunday lunch, it was ambrosia. Euphemia doted on Remus as if he were the fourth child under her wing - wasn’t he? - and heaped a second pile of potatoes and lentils onto his plate after he complimented them.

Sirius grasped for Remus’ hand under the table at several intervals, always rewarded with a warm squeeze of fingers, a thumb brushing over that callus on his forefinger where his tattoo machine rested, and a wry, almost shy smile from gorgeous lips. _You are divine_ , he wanted to say every time he caught Remus’ gaze and it brushed away the under-current of worry, the fear of vulnerability that had settled under his sternum since he had spoken to Euphemia. _You are fresh air personified. I could float with you forever_.

“Mum?” Sirius asked, his voice breaking around the lingering taste of strawberries and cream during a lull in conversation after pudding. “Can we-”

Euphemia - God help him, how had he got so lucky to have a mother figure like her? - just smiled and nodded. “Of course love.” James and Fleamont just nodded too, a shared look between the trio of blood-Potters. Sirius thought Euphemia must’ve told them separately, perhaps when they were setting the table and moving around each other in the kitchen in a way that harked back to their teenage years, a dance of familiarity Sirius would’ve taken part in if it weren’t for keeping Remus company at the table.

“How about we go to the living room?” Fleamont interjected, gathering up the last of the pudding bowls and smiling kindly at them all in turn.

Remus reached for Sirius’ hand as they stood. “You okay, Pads?”

“Yeah, I’ll be okay.” Sirius thought for once that he wasn’t lying, too. It felt terrifying, felt like baring his soul and laying down in the middle of a racetrack to the oncoming horses, or in the no-mans-land between trenches, waiting for the armies to come over the top and trample him. But it also felt like the sort of thing he could come back from. Not the kind of pain that left him torn apart but, after that initial moment of pain, the first hot slide of a needle, followed by ink or metal, the kind of pain that would leave him more whole.

Sirius lingered in the kitchen for a moment when the others went through to the living room with cups of tea. He needed a moment to breathe, but then, lungs as full as they would like to be with the weight of the afternoon pressing down on them, he stepped into the living room to see James next to Remus on the sofa, arm thrown reassuringly around his shoulders. Fleamont sat in the armchair nearest the window, and Euphemia on the other side of her son. Sirius paused, not quite ready to let them know he was there yet, some part of him wanting to give in to the sinuous voice that sounded like Regulus in his head; _I’ll bet they aren’t as complimentary when you’re not here. I’ll bet they can barely stand you, you fucking mess_.

“I didn’t realise it was bad until we were 14 - you know, when he said ‘Father just runs a tight household’, I didn’t assume that meant ‘Orion beats me fucking senseless on the reg’-” James cut himself off and stared out of the window, his jaw tight for a moment- “Who the fuck does that? But then I realised, saw all the cuts and bruises and everything fell into place. So naturally, I phone Dad straight away and tell him we need to help.”

Sirius clenched his fingers in his pocket, that day flooding in behind his eyelids, remembering the moment that the dam finally collapsed, the letter from Walburga full of vitriol and slurs and that thinly veiled threat of _there will be consequences, boy_ and he just couldn’t take it anymore. He remembered James staring at him, wide-eyed, disbelieving that anyone’s parents could do that. He remembered sobbing into his pillow when James excused himself to step outside of their dorm room, thinking he had just scared off the best friend he’d ever like to have, when it reality James had been phoning Fleamont to tell him that Sirius would be spending the Easter holidays with them.

“For the most part, he’s doing a lot better,” Euphemia continued, her hand lightly on James’ arm, placating, reassuring, knowing that the family Black is the only thing to have ever successfully upset the Potter’s. “He didn’t eat or sleep when he first came here, flinched at everything, so God only knows what it was actually like in that house.”

“I didn’t-” James’ jaw was clenching and unclenching. Sirius had never realised how much this must’ve affected him, always too wrapped up in his own neuroses- “He always held it together, this mask of joking and being a bit of a prick, so to see the- I dunno, see it all break after five years of friendship and have him turn up at the house over Christmas fucking _high_ as a kite...”

“Did you-” Remus started, his voice sounding a little shorn, just filtering over to the other side of the room where Sirius stood, well out of their periphery, listening- “take it to the police?”

“Padfoot?” Lily’s voice was barely a whisper, a breath, a hiss of comfort as she laid a hand on Sirius’ arm and pulled him gently into the hallway. She was smiling kindly, her eyes a little glassy. “Let them talk? How about you and I go and run around with Bertie?”

“Yeah,” Sirius said, sliding an arm around Lily’s waist, halfway to comfort and halfway to keep him standing with the way his knees were jellied with worry. “That’d be nice.”

Sirius felt like he blinked and he was on the deck with Lily, throwing a ball for Bertie and watching the tree line as if he were waiting for something. His throat felt tight with all the words he knew the Potter’s were saying to Remus, all the words he felt _he_ should be saying in their stead.

Lily’s hand sat on his knee in reassuring contact, tight but not biting, enough to say _I am here, darling_ , but not a moment more. Sirius smiled - to himself really, he was still staring out at the tree line - but he held on tight, knowing that Potter Farm was his security blanket, knowing that the Potters themselves would make sure Remus understood everything as best he could.

“I wasn’t sure you’d ever want him to know any of it,” Lily mused, leaning down to offer her other hand to Bertie as he brought the ball back to them. She kept holding Sirius’ hand with her other.

“Well,” Sirius started, without knowing how he would end the sentence - _it’s getting serious. I trust him. I feel like my life and his have been intertwined for longer than a handful of months. He deserves it. I think I might lo-_

What he said instead was; “It hurts him more only knowing half of it, doesn’t it?”

“That makes sense. At least now, he can help, if it’s bad, y’know?”

“Mhmm-” Sirius stood up, throwing the ball for Bertie again- “That’s the idea. I just… didn’t know where to start with telling him.”

“That’s alright. You’re allowed to let us help you,” Lily said, her chair creaking as she stood to fold her hand into Sirius’ elbow and lean her temple against the outside of his arm. “Whatever happens, James and I will be here for you.”

“Love you sis,” Sirius hummed, turning his head to press his mouth into Lily’s hair, warmed from the residual sunshine, warm like her hugs and her presence in Sirius’ life, unfailing. Even when Sirius had royally fucked up, like after Spain, or that one time he and James argued to the point of physicality when emotions were high and the business was taking off, Lily was there, calming, relaxing, wonderful.

“Love you too, you utter idiot.”

They stood for a moment, staring at the tree line, and as much as he threw the ball to Bertie, Sirius’ mind kept drifting back to the living room, where his best friend and parents were spilling his whole life secrets, every awful bit of it. How unspooled he’d felt after he finally left Grimmauld Place, and then on its heels graduated Eton. They might’ve had an apprenticeship with Mad-Eye and Minnie lined up, but that didn’t mean Sirius knew what to do with himself now he was away from the two places he’d spent half his life. He had acted out in the worst ways, self-destructive ways, and if it weren’t for the Potters and Lily, he wouldn’t be here.

“Why don’t you go around the lane on the bike, Padfoot?” Lily said into his arm. Sirius swiftly realised his foot was tapping away, the muscles of his arm under Lily’s temple clenching and unclenching. “Didn’t you want to work on it a little seeing as you’ve Monty’s garage?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Sirius sighed, watching the tree line again, waiting for this phantom to come barrelling out of the thicket and into his life, waiting for things to go wrong.

“Go on.” Lily nudged him gently with her elbow towards the large garage adjacent to the house. “The bike always makes things better.”

Sirius kissed Lily’s cheek, full of gratitude, and squeezed an arm around her waist before he stepped off the deck and crossed the grass to where the bike was parked outside the garage, glinting in the sunlight. Whenever something needed working on for the bike, Sirius would come to Potter Farm and fix it himself rather than go to some overpriced London garage. It was another layer to the comfort blanket of the place.

Sirius slung his leg over the bike and pulled on his helmet, taking another sweeping, appraising glance across the rolling fields behind the farm, before he kicked in engine to life and pulled out of the driveway.

Lily was right - wasn’t she always? The bike did make everything just seem to slide away. He didn’t worry when he was listening to the engine, listening for the thrum of it, feeling the way the bike moved under him, the way it roared around corners and dug in and was so responsive. It was late afternoon now, the sun still fairly high in the sky and the warmth of the day still hung around, not too cool, not too hot. Sirius let out a breath as he opened the throttle on a lovely straight bit of road, remembering so vividly how he had learned to ride on this same stretch, James laughing at that gate on the side of the road as Fleamont tried to hide his own laughter at the way Sirius couldn’t stop grinning with how _cool_ it all was. He remembered taking Euphemia out on the bike for the first time, her arms tight around his waist and her voice in his ear saying _young man you better go slowly_ , but she was grinning when he deposited her back on the gravel at the farm’s front door.

Sirius tried not to think of Remus, tried not to think of how he would take this all. Would he think less of Sirius now? It was a poisonous thought, one he tried not to dwell on but the voice in his head said it anyway. He would know all about Sirius now, how he had failed to protect Regulus from their parents because he ran away. Foolishly, he had put his own safety in front of his brother’s safety, and now Regulus stood in Orion’s shoes. Sirius tried not to think of Regulus often, either. He tried not to think of how well Orion’s memories slid over the top of the picture his younger brother painted now. Did Regulus even know the extent to which their past haunted Sirius? Or perhaps he had protected him well enough after all, that Regulus didn’t know how often Sirius still woke to the sound of his own pleas to stop and the _thwack_ of the fire poker.

As he pulled into the driveway of Potter Farm, Sirius noticed two figures stood on the porch. As soon as he was close enough to place the figures Sirius cut the bike engine and nearly stumbled in his rush to turn it off, remembering always the way Remus would flinch at the sound of it.

But Remus was striding towards him, Sirius still on the bike, fumbling with the strap of his helmet in his haste to pull it off. He looked… angry. His amber eyes were shining beneath a furrowed brow, his cheeks mottled with red. What the hell had happened?

“Moony?” Sirius’ voice wavered a little as his eyes flickered to James - the other figure on the porch, his cheeks red, his hair even wilder than usual - but he gave nothing away. Toeing down the kickstand, Sirius made to get off the bike but instead Remus closed the gap between them and wrapped his arms tight around Sirius’ shoulders.

It was the closest Remus had ever gotten to the bike, close enough that if he shifted enough his calf would press against the belly of it, close enough to smell petrol and wax. Trying not to tremble, Sirius buried his face into Remus’ neck and hugged him back as tight as possible.

“Moony, hey, what’s wrong?” Sirius breathed, feeling Remus’ breath coming in short little puffs against Sirius’ shoulder, his head bent to press his face into the leather there. Sirius shifted his weight a little to see if he could stand and throw one leg over the bike to dismount, but Remus just held on tighter.

“I just-” Remus said after a moment, his face still against Sirius’ shoulder as Sirius turned to press a kiss above his ear. “Hearing all that about your fucking family… I’m so angry for you, I’m so sorry for it. Fucking hell, Pads.”

Sirius let his eyes fall shut at the sheer tenderness in Remus’ voice, the way it shook slightly with the strength of his emotion, the way he _cared_ enough to get upset by Sirius’ past. “It’s okay,” he murmured, wondering where this reassurance had sprung from, this need to make Remus okay. “I’m out of there now, I have you, and Prongs and Lils, they can’t get me anymore.” Sirius told himself that every night, waking up to the crows - _they can’t get me anymore_ \- and maybe it would turn into a mantra for them both. Together, with their friends, their chosen family, and each other, they would be safe from it all.

“It’s not,” Remus retorted, finally lifting his head to peer at Sirius with heart-wrenchingly red-rimmed eyes, his hands still plastered over Sirius’ spine, holding him close. “It’s not because they got away with it, and they should be fucking burning somewhere for what they did to you.”

“I know. I know, but that’s not how it works. It’s okay. I have all I need right here.” Sirius extracted one hand from their embrace, fingers shaking, heart pounding in his throat for all the emotion bubbling so close to the surface, with how much his whole being seemed to shake for how Remus Lupin adored him. His fingers grazed over the high point of Remus’ cheek, followed by the pad of his thumb, following the bloom of blood so close to the surface.

Remus seemed to sink a little then, his shoulders going lax with the removal of unseen pressure, his grip loosening a little. After a moment’s reassurance, his eyes searching Sirius’ as if for any deception, Remus glanced around, realising Sirius was still astride the bike and he was the closest he had likely come to the object of his trauma in the past ten years.

Sirius felt him tense, but his arms stayed around Sirius’ waist, his eyes stayed molten and honeyed and Sirius stretched up to be closer to him all in a breath. “It’s okay.” Funny, isn’t it, he thought, how he could be the one comforting Remus for Sirius’ past, how they could trust each other to be open now, to be present with each other.

James moved from the porch, Sirius’ eyes flickering over to catch the movement, and ducked back into the house to give the pair some privacy. Sirius reminded himself to catch his best friend later and give him a rib-bruising hug of his own.

“Yeah, yeah…” Remus agreed, finally stepping back enough to allow Sirius to step from the bike and land with the gravel of the driveway beneath his feet and Remus’ arms still around him. Remus swallowed - Sirius watched his throat bob and ached for the closeness of it - and his eyes flickered aside to the bike. Sirius couldn’t help but tense, wary, trying to protect Remus as much as he could. Instead, Remus took a deep shuddering breath and dragged his gaze back up to meet Sirius’. Like always, Remus’ gaze felt like fire and lightning. “Lily said you were working on the bike…” Another deep breath, dragging through his lungs like their smoke on a Saturday night, on the stoop of the shop, in bed on a Monday morning. “What does it need?”

The surprise must’ve showed on Sirius’ face, his eyebrows flickered up, his jaw went slack, just for a moment before he smiled. It was a real smile too, nothing fabricated or veneered. Sirius felt in his heart, in his bones, in the marrow that knew Remus somehow, like their cells were searching each other out, magnetic, gravitational. He could see the tension shivering - so telltale, so easy to read when your bones knew each other - across Remus’ jaw, he could see that it was hard but he could see that Remus was _trying_ , and wasn’t that all they could do? Try?


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all so much for your patience with me! Vampires took over my whole life for a while there-along with some familial bad news but hey-and now we are back with these boys. I fully cried writing this chapter. Enjoy!

 

“That one there,” Sirius said, motioning with his grease-stained hand towards the toolbox sitting open at the other end of the bike.

Remus, one hand securely around Sirius’ bared ankle, leant over to snag the tool up and pass it along to his boyfriend. His hand had been fastened tight to at least one part of Sirius since they had stepped into the garage; first a hand on his shoulder as Sirius wheeled in the bike, then a hand in his until Sirius had needed both hands to tighten a particularly loose bolt on the carburettor, and now a hand on his leg. Sirius tried to pretend the idea behind it didn’t make him giddy with sensation and affection, the fact that Remus was sat next to the bike, watching Sirius work, holding onto him, knowing Sirius would protect him from it all.

If last night was baring themselves painfully, like the rawness of open wounds and skinned knees and the way tears sting in their salinity, then today, this afternoon, at Potter Farm, was the healing over of those wounds. But they were still bare, still frightfully bare to each other, plastic anatomy models, x-rays, cutaways, but they were here and it wasn’t bleeding anymore. It all seemed okay. Trust felt like a balloon between them now, lifting, carrying, weightless, rather than something to weigh them down.

Sirius twisted a little, sprawling under the body of the bike so he could reach the troublesome area, keeping one leg out straight for Remus to hold onto. _I’m proud of you_ , he wanted to say, aching with it at the seam of his lips, but he didn’t want to sound patronising or stupid. He knew just as well what would make himself fly off the handle, and that was the last thing he wanted for Remus.

“Can you get it?” Remus asked, his voice a little croaky, his fingers a tight brace around Sirius’ ankle. Sirius could see how hard it was for him to sit here, but somehow, he found the courage to continue doing it. If Remus could do it, then so could Sirius. They would be okay.

“Mhmm,” was Sirius’ answer, holding the spanner between his teeth for a moment to adjust the inlet pipe by hand. Sometimes James would sit out here with him when he worked on the bike, but having Remus here felt so different, it felt so important to the both of them. Behind his eyelids, breathing for a moment—the reassuring weight of petrol, grease, wax, oil—Sirius saw himself and Remus on the bike, Remus’ arms around his waist, mouth against his neck; it was how they lay in bed on lazy mornings, the same comfort, the same trust. Perhaps one day. This was enough right now though, their own brand of closeness.

“Tea for you two, if you’re not ready to come in,” James said from the door, making Sirius jerk in surprise and narrowly avoid smacking his head on the exhaust. James stepped over the threshold and set down two mugs of tea on the toolbox, hazel eyes flickering between the two men. Sirius extracted himself from underneath the bike and sat up as he spoke. “Mum says we should stay the night, too. If we’ve got nothing on tomorrow.”

“Mmm,” Sirius agreed, picking up the tea and blowing softly on the surface before taking a sip. Remus’ hand stayed on Sirius’ ankle as he picked up the other mug. “I wouldn’t mind that. That alright with you Moony?”

Remus nodded through a sip of his own tea. “Fine by me.”

James grinned. “Great. You can introduce Moony to your teenage room.” He winked and ran a hand through his hair whilst Sirius laughed and Remus rolled his eyes.

“We’re nearly done in here, I think, Prongs. Just realigning the back fork then we’ll be inside—” Sirius looked to Remus— “Unless you wanna go in with Prongs, Moony?”

Remus shook his head. “No, I’m okay here.” His voice only wavered a little and Sirius felt a burst of pride.

“Alright. Mum thinks we should all be about ready for treacle tart, too, after today.”

“Christ, Effie likes to feed everyone up, doesn’t she?” Remus said, pulling a face and stretching his legs out. “I’m stuffed.”

“Yep,” Sirius said as James replied—

“You should see Christmas.”

Remus’ eyes widened in alarm as he chuckled. “God…”

Sirius chuckled and took another sip of his tea before setting it back down and shuffling underneath the bike once more. Remus’ hand tightened on his ankle. It was almost as if he didn’t trust the _bike_ itself, rather than Sirius around it, worried that this great metal beast would rise up and snap his boyfriend in half through powerful jaws. Sirius flexed his foot as he worked, pushing the ball of it over Remus’ thigh in a gesture roughly equal to _I’m right here_. Remus’ fingers were warm and soothing and soon enough the job was done.

When Sirius sat up and stretched the tension from his shoulders Remus smiled at him, his amber eyes almost fever-bright over the rim of his tea mug. He was tense still, Sirius could see it in his shoulders, but he was smiling at the corners of his mouth.

“Ready to go in?” Sirius said, tilting his neck from side to side as he crossed to Remus and crouched next to him to kiss the corner of his mouth.

Remus hummed and tilted into him. “Yeah, treacle tart does sound nice.”

Inside, they settled in front of the television on the loveseat by the window, Sirius’ arm thrown on the back of the sofa around Remus’ shoulders. They tipped together and Remus pressed his mouth to Sirius’ hair and it felt wonderful. Monty was in his armchair by the unlit fire, idly flicking through a paper, Euphemia and Lily were on the other sofa, watching whatever cheesy 90’s action film was on the television, whilst James was on the floor with Bertie, play-wrestling with the dog. Sirius didn’t pay attention to the television, preoccupied by Remus’ breath against his temple and Remus’ hand on his thigh.

Monty and Effie liked Remus. They had taken him under their wings as soon as he had stepped foot over their garden gateway, and that was such a weight off of Sirius’ shoulders. It wasn’t as if their disapproval would have any bearing on how much Sirius actually adored the other man, but it was just nice to know his affections weren’t misplaced at all. Sirius tilted back and pressed a kiss to Remus’ jawline.

“Let me know if you want to go upstairs… If you’re tired. Or—or if you want to talk about… things,” Sirius murmured, his eyes fluttering shut as he squeezed his arm around Remus’ shoulders.

“Yeah—” Remus responded with another warm kiss to his temple— “We can watch the end of the film, if you like. We’re in no rush, are we? We’re… we’re here for the long run, aren’t we?”

Sirius smiled, his heart feeling like it might well burst. It felt like the closest thing to a real, real declaration of feeling and affection and vulnerability between them. Sirius squeezed Remus’ shoulder and leant up to kiss him on the lips. “Yeah… I think we are.”

They sat and watched the end of the film—Sirius could remember nearly nothing about it, instead only conscious of the way Remus’ chest rose and fell beneath his out-slung arm, or the soft way his mouth would curl up at the corners at a particularly cheesy Arnold Schwarzenegger line, or the way he absent-mindedly breathed into Sirius’ hair like a brand of affection. They were wound together so utterly that Sirius wasn’t sure they would ever untangle again.

Then, as another film started, Euphemia yawned and stretched her legs. She saw herself off to bed with a kiss to everyone’s foreheads—Remus’ included. He blushed at the affectionate gesture and Sirius grinned ear to ear whilst Euphemia winked at him. Then, at the next advert break, James and Lily decided they would retire too—James had been falling asleep on Lily’s shoulder, even despite the revving engines and explosions in the film. Monty grinned and then it was decided everyone would go to bed. Luckily, impromptu stays at the Potter’s happened a lot, and Sirius’ childhood dresser held a couple of pairs of underwear, a pair of pyjama bottoms and a big hoodie.

In his old room now, Sirius shucked off his shirt and jeans and turned to see Remus peering at the old posters on his walls. Predictably, Bowie and Bolan were there, as well as Freddie Mercury, and an old cinema advertisement for Terminator 2.

“This room is just full of you, isn’t it?” Remus mused, moving along to study the old CD player with the mid-noughties pop-punk and some old compilations of 70’s music.

Sirius chuckled and closed the gap between them, pressing his mouth to Remus’ shoulder. “Isn’t that what you did as a teen? Made your room as obnoxiously yours as possible?”

“Mmhm,” Remus hummed as he turned in Sirius’ arms and ducked to press a kiss to his mouth. “I don’t know that I spent a lot of time in my room, I was a bad kid…”

Sirius’ heart ached. Remus wasn’t a bad kid. He got in the wrong crowd, fine, but he was a good kid, Sirius was sure, just as he was a good adult, just as he was the most wonderful thing in Sirius’ life right now. “Oh yeah?” He murmured, full of mirth and lurid promise as he pressed their bodies together. “Is that like being naughty?”

Remus burst out laughing. “Oh Christ, Pads. Don’t ever say that again.” His face was screwed up trying not to laugh, but his hands were pressed against Sirius’ back and pushing them together. “Some more kissing though, hm?”

“Mm, okay. You’ve convinced me.” Sirius grasped the front of Remus’ shirt and pulled him towards the bed. He sat back as Remus straddled his thighs and leant up to meet every one of his languid kisses. Perhaps it was the afternoon in the sun, or the airing of all the secrets between them, their closeness next to the bike, wrapped together on the loveseat, but Remus’ mouth felt like electricity and fire all at once. His hands raked through Sirius’ hair and down his bare shoulders, over the dragon, over the cherry blossoms, every bit of artwork Remus must know so intimately by now.

“Purple Rain or Electric Warrior?” Sirius murmured, only-half joking, into Remus’ cheek as the other man’s mouth kissed along his jaw.

Remus chuckled, pulling his phone from his jeans. “I put them both on a playlist together earlier.”

“You did?” Sirius laughed, easing Remus’ phone out of his hand to flick on the playlist. It was named with a whole host of vaguely sexual emojis that Sirius couldn’t help but laugh at until Remus nipped at his collarbone and it dissolved into a moan. “God, Rem…”

Sirius shifted up the bed a little, hands skittering to pull Remus’ shirt off over his head and range down the planes of his chest. Sirius was used to avoiding his shoulders now, almost. He _loved_ Remus’ shoulders, broad and sinewy, atop his sharp collarbones that met for his favourite piercing. So it was hard to avoid palming across the skin there, but Sirius respected Remus’ wishes. Instead, his hands pushed through Remus’ hair as the other man nipped at the roses adorning his own collarbones.

Remus’ expression was mischief personified as he looked up from sucking a particularly lurid mark into Sirius’ sternum. The press of his lip ring was cool and warm at the same time and the shape of his teeth took Sirius’ breath away. “Want a blowie in your teenage bedroom?”

“ _Fuck—_ ” was the only thing Sirius could get out as Remus slid down his body and pressed open-mouthed kisses across his hipbones. His head dropped back, unable to weather the tormenting pleasure of watching, as Remus pulled off his underwear and swirled his tongue—that damn tongue piercing—over the head of his cock. “Oh God, Moony, your fucking _mouth_ …”

Sheer pleasure overwhelmed Sirius as Remus took his cock into the warm cavern of his mouth. Sirius would never tire of the way Remus felt, the way his mouth felt, all threaded with metal and the way he knew _just_ how to bring Sirius to the brink of ecstasy. Sirius was adrift on their ocean, one hand scrabbling down to hold onto Remus’, linking their fingers in a way that felt so fundamentally _them_. They had never talked about it, never mentioned why they instinctively grasp for each other’s hands in the throes of pleasure. Maybe to feel moored to each other in their ocean? But Sirius held on, one hand linked with Remus’, the _Swim_ hand, the Gryffindor lion hand, and the other tangled gently in Remus’ hair, holding a whorl of curls back from his face.

Remus hummed affectionately, every bob of his head taking Sirius deeper into his mouth, every swirl of his tongue pulling at the threads of his unravelling. God, he was so perfect, how did they fit together so phenomenally? How did all of Sirius’ ragged edges fit with Remus’ scarred ones so perfectly?

On a gasp, Sirius pulled gently at Remus’ hair and clenched his eyes shut to stave off the orgasm pushing at the edges of his consciousness.

“Okay?” Remus murmured, voice hoarse, as he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. Sirius opened his eyes to see Remus crawling up his body, his eyebrows raised together in mild concern. His face was flushed, his eyes bright and dark at the same time, the bulge in his jeans pressed against Sirius’ thigh. _Unmoor me, pull me out into the water with you, I want to get lost at sea with you, only you._

“I want you to fuck me,” Sirius ushered on a breath. The impact of his words were instantly recognisable.

Remus bit at his lip ring, and his brow creased with worry, but Sirius could see his pupils go dark, and he could _feel_ Remus’ cock twitch against his leg. “Pads—Christ, are you—are you sure?” Remus’ hands went to either side of Sirius’ face, his fingers pressed against the line of his jaw, thumb brushing over his bottom lip. He looked so earnest, so open and beautiful in the low summer light, with _Purple Rain_ over them both. “We can do something else, anything else, whatever you want.”

Had it only been this morning that they were in the shower together? Pressed together in unlikely pleasure, Remus’ tongue teasing him to the point of near-delirium? And how _good_ it had felt. How good it had felt to open up to Remus like that—figuratively and literally, he supposed—to allow their bodies to come together? If there was one person Sirius was going to give up control for, then it would be Remus. It wasn’t submitting, no, it could never be submitting with the two of them, not with the way their kisses were pure fire, but it was _trust_. It didn’t seem so scary all of a sudden.

“I wanna fuck, Moons.” Sirius leant up and kissed Remus, all tongue and tenderness, thrilling at his little hum of affection.

“Okay—” Remus exhaled sharply and Sirius realised his fingers were shaking ever so slightly. He pushed his own shaking fingers through Remus’ hair and kissed him again before he spoke— “Okay, do we have—” another kiss— “anything?”

“Yeah, God, somewhere…” Sirius pitched to the side and yanked open the drawer of the bedside table, digging through to look for lube. There had to be some here _somewhere_. Remus peppered little kisses along the line of Sirius’ shoulder blade as he did, the shape of his mouth smiling pressed against the skin to the chords of _Mambo Sun_. “Here!” Sirius said, quickly realising he needed to be quiet as he pulled the bottle out of the drawer and held it up triumphantly.

“God, Sirius, how long has that been in there?” Remus’ eyes widened as he sat back on his heels.

Sirius frowned and peered at the label, turning it towards the window for the light. “No, it’s fine, it’s fine. It’s got another year yet.” With that, he dropped the bottle onto the bedspread and turned to kiss Remus.

Remus’ hands roamed over his skin, gentle and reverent, as Sirius knelt up and urged him towards the head of the bed. Their tongues twisted together, exploring every inch of each other’s mouths with fresh anticipation. Sirius’ fingers fell to the buttons of Remus’ jeans and deftly undid them, reaching beneath the material to stroke over his erection, earning a shuddering moan from Remus’ glittering mouth. Sirius tried not to think too much on the actual mechanics of what was about to happen. He wasn’t a bloody virgin but it had been _years_ since he had bottomed, and that hadn’t been the most wonderful experience. But Remus was different.

Sirius pushed away Remus’ jeans, the other man lifting his hips to help him, and pushed them down off his feet. Sirius pressed kisses up the inside of Remus’ thigh as he crawled back up and straddled his thighs. “Like this?”

“Yeah, yeah, however you want.” Their kisses stuck together slightly, words murmured between lips pressed together, reverent touches over hands and shoulders and down the corded juncture of thighs. Remus nipped softly at his lower lip and Sirius felt him reach for the discarded lube bottle. “Do you want me to…?”

“Yeah, you do it.” Sirius felt like all the breath had been pulled out of his body as he tangled his hands into Remus’ hair and Remus slicked his fingers with lube.

Remus’ amber eyes were glued to Sirius’ face as he reached between his legs and stroked gently over his hole. Sirius wasn’t nervous. He knew that he could put his pleasure into Remus’ hands and know it would be well-looked after. Their eye contact felt heated and sharp and all too poignant and tender all at once but Sirius couldn’t look away, even as Remus’ finger breached him, slowly, softly, gently, and Remus let out a little breath.

It felt like they had all the time in the world, Sirius leaning forward to kiss Remus gently, responding to every gentle intrusion of his fingers with a kiss, or a lick, or a bite, cataloguing the shapes of Remus’ mouth, his jaw, his throat, his collarbones, that glorious piece of metal threaded through the hollow of his throat like the point of a compass, Sirius’ compass, the only direction he needed. He didn’t need to think about anything else, didn’t need to take his mind off of anything because all he could think about was Remus, every glorious, beautiful facet of him and their facets together, their mouths together, chests pressed together, Remus’ fingers inside him, Remus’ finger stroking over his prostate and sending stars shivering up his spine.

Before he realised, Sirius was pushing down with every movement of Remus’ fingers and when he tipped back to gasp a breath, Remus’ eyes were wide and bright, flickering over his face, looking for any moment of hesitation. Sirius’ fingers were wrapped around Remus’ cock, stroking idly with the same feeling of out-of-body, wide-eyed wonder.

“Yeah?” Remus breathed, barely even a question with how entwined they were, did they need words? It didn’t feel like it.

“Yeah. God, Moons, yeah—” Remus’ cock twitched against his palm, flushed, precome beading at the tip. Christ, he wanted that. All of a sudden, like a weight in his chest. It wasn’t about bottoming, it wasn’t about whose cock went where. It was about vulnerability and allowing closeness in a way that didn’t happen anywhere else. It was about being together, joined together, wound together, afloat, drifting, only each other and the solace of their bodies. It wasn’t about who was going to give in first, who was going to _submit_ first. This wasn’t submission, it couldn’t be, not with the way Remus was staring at him, wide-eyed like fingering lube into Sirius was the greatest thing he’d ever done, thighs quivering beneath him. Not with Sirius straddling him with hands in his hair and pressing breathless kisses to his mouth.

Then Remus’ fingers were gone and Sirius shifted forward and the blunt head of Remus’ cock pressed against him and it didn’t feel like hardly anything at all to sink down onto him. Sirius hissed at first, the piercing there warm against the tender flesh, his breath winnowing out between them, their unbreakable eye-contact, and Remus stilled.

“Okay?” Remus’ voice shook as Sirius dragged his hands through those auburn curls and nudged their noses together. He was shaking, or was it Remus shaking too? He couldn’t tell, torsos pressed together, one of Remus’ hands tight on his hip, the other at the nape of his neck, fingers buried into silky black hair. Slowly, softly, gently, they rocked together, inching ever closed to their joined oblivion into pleasure.

“Oh fuck, Moons—” Sirius sank down fully onto Remus then, a strangled little gasp slipping from his mouth as their hips pressed together and it felt like everything in the world just _stopped_. It felt like a revelation, like an epiphany, like he had been living with only half of the world until now, bodies pressed together, Sirius could see everything.

“God—fucking—damn, Sirius. _Shit._ ” Remus bit his lip, his teeth scraping across Sirius’ bottom lip too, his thigh muscles clenched tight in an effort not to move, to let Sirius take their twinned reigns. “Jesus, Pads—you feel so good.”

Even reaching orgasm didn’t feel particularly important as Sirius rocked their hips together, staring into the deep amber pools of Remus’ eyes, noses nudged together, hands in his hair, breath mingling. They kissed as if it were breath, vitally important, but at the same time so natural you didn’t even have to think about it, just another thing they needed to live. Sirius clenched his hands in Remus’ hair and rolled his hips forward, moaning sharply when the head of Remus’ cock pressed against his prostate. Christ, was that the fucking piercing making his eyes roll back in his head?

They were barely even thrusting, not willing to give up the lack of space between their bodies, pressed together, thighs tangled, abdomens quivering, torsos rising and falling in perfect sync. Sirius’ hands ran over Remus’ shoulders, around to the back of his neck, to that unfolding lotus, up through his hair. Remus didn’t shy away from their eye contact, their foreheads pressed together, one hand on Sirius’ hips to help him, the other tangled in the hair at the crown of his head. God, it was so perfect, it was so beautiful Sirius thought there might be tears stinging the corners of his eyes.

Time didn’t matter. Had it been seconds or minutes or _hours_? Sirius didn’t care; all he wanted was Remus, pressed together, wound, bound, afloat. It was only when Sirius was making short, sharp little moans with each roll of their hips that Remus’ hand strayed from his hip and wrapped around his cock.

“Moons, _fu_ —” Sirius cut himself off, pressing their mouths together in a hungry kiss, overwhelmed with sensation as Remus twisted his wrist and thumbed over the head of his cock. And then he was coming, crying out into their kiss and biting on Remus’ lip ring, hands tightening in auburn curls, coming in hot, white ropes over their stomachs, pressed together, heedless of it all.

Sirius wasn’t sure he’d ever come so hard before, eyes fluttering shut against his will, his body going taut, pressed against Remus’ warmth and solidity, breath wracking in and out of him, Remus’ kisses swallowing every one of his moans like ambrosia. Remus lifted his hips in one, sharp, involuntary motion before his eyebrows pitched together and he shuddered beneath Sirius and he was coming too, his hand twisting tight in Sirius’ hair.

Together, together, together, they fell into blissful, boneless aftermath. Remus wrapped his arms around Sirius’ torso and Sirius pressed kisses all over his mouth. Sirius shivered with every passing tremor of his orgasm, prolonged by every twitch of Remus’ cock inside him, every puff of breath from Remus’ mouth, every flutter of the other man’s eyelashes against the high of his cheekbones.

“Fucking hell…” Remus breathed, his hips shifting as his muscles finally went lax against the slow parabola of his pleasure. Sirius hissed softly and rose onto his knees to move off of him, wincing a little as they separated. Remus sat up and pressed a kiss to his jaw. “Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you?”

“No. Fuck, no, Moons. It was…”

“Perfect?”

“Yeah.” Sirius smiled and turned to kiss Remus properly. “Perfect.”

Remus sank back into the pillows, his amber eyes following Sirius as he shifted to the side. For a moment, it felt like there were words hanging in the air between them, unsaid and yet so close to being voiced out-loud. Sirius sank into the feeling like a hot bath and held his breath against the way the air thickened between them. They both knew, didn’t they? That this was _it_ for them, for them both.

Sirius stretched his legs and peered down at himself, lips quirking into a smile. “I suppose that’s the plus of a blowjob, right?”

Remus snorted a laugh and slipped off the bed towards the adjoining bathroom. “Hold on, I’ll get a cloth.”

The two of them cleaned up in comfortable silence, little affectionate touches, a brush of fingertips over the inside of an elbow, the brief press of a nose to the line of a jaw, doing just enough to be able to sleep before they crawled under the covers and wrapped around each other. Sirius wrapped his arms around Remus’ shoulders and smiled into auburn curls as Remus kissed the black dog at his sternum.

“Night Pads.”

“Night, Moons. Sleep tight.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on a roll with the boys at the moment and appear to have got my mojo back between some fest works, so here we go! as always thank you to Purplechimera for the beta read!

 

Somehow, everything had changed.

On the outside, it was all the same, sure. The morning after, Sirius woke Remus with a blowjob—those teenage fantasies came from _somewhere_ —and they tripped downstairs in some kind of blissful aftermath, as if their new closeness from the night before might be written across their faces. They ate brunch all together around the big farmhouse table, Sirius’ hand on Remus’ thigh between passing plates of pancakes or bacon, conversation flittering around them all, Remus well and truly welcomed to the family. It felt stupid, almost, to be so inexplicably happy over something that had no real societal value any more, unless you were an idiot.

And yet? Everything had changed. Gone was the strange, lingering feeling of guilt that had persisted in Sirius’ stomach, the itch behind his teeth to just up and out and scream about everything that had gone wrong in his life, ever. Sirius was happy, and Remus had this little smile that crooked one corner of his gorgeous mouth and his amber eyes danced and he was happy too.

After brunch, the four gathered their things for the trek back to London and Sirius wheeled the bike out from where he left it in the garage the night before. Remus was stood on the gravel courtyard, squinting a little in the mid-morning sun, as Sirius emerged, arms crossed over his stomach, biting at his lip ring. Sirius stopped a short distance away from him, not wanting to push the bike any closer than he needed to.

“Hey,” Remus said, his eyes flickering over Sirius and over the bike too.

“Hey. Prongs and Lils still inside?” Sirius asked by way of greeting, toeing the kickstand down and leaning his hip against the bike for a moment.

“Mhmm, Effie is loading Lily’s handbag up with treats and Prongs is saying bye to Bertie.” Remus drew closer as he spoke, one hand rubbing over the lotus across the nape of his neck. Sirius watched him, wondering whether he should go to Remus or if Remus wanted to come closer, wanted to cross this chasm.

“Yeah, gives us a moment then Moons…” Sirius agreed, relenting at last to move forward, unable to watch the way Remus swayed on the balls of his feet a little as if his insides were warring. A few steps away Remus held a hand out for him and Sirius took it gladly, pulling them both together and sliding his arms around Remus’ waist.

“Sorry, Pads,” Remus muttered, pressing his mouth into Sirius’ hair. Potter Farm was a place for revelations, a place for opening up and turning around, a place where Sirius finally flourished after years of abuse, maybe the place Remus might flourish too. But he didn’t _need_ to. Remus on the bike was a lovely pipe-dream of Sirius’, days in the sun riding through the rolling hills, but he didn’t need it.

“It’s okay.” Sirius tipped back a little to smile at Remus and kiss him lightly on the lips. “Just because—just because of last night, because we changed things there, doesn’t mean you have to push at everything. It’s fine. Whatever you need, whatever you want, Moons.”

Remus frowned and lifted his finger to trace around the collar of Sirius’ t-shirt where beneath, they both knew, lay a little purplish mark from Remus’ teeth. “I know, I want to. I’m sick of it… having—” Remus swallowed— “power over me.”

Sirius smiled softly and brushed a hand through Remus’ hair, pushing it gently back from his forehead, thumb stroking over the piercing through his eyebrow. “It’s okay. It won’t do forever. And I’ll be here to help.”

“Yeah—yeah.” Remus returned his smile, letting both hands fall to Sirius’ shoulders. “Thank you, Pads.”

“Of course.” Sirius glanced back to the bike. “Want to try coming a bit closer? You got real close yesterday, didn’t you…” He purposefully kept his voice soft and airy, his hands going to Remus’ wrists to brace them together, prove just how wound into one they were.

“Yeah… I was angry then though, didn’t really… notice. But yeah, yeah, okay…” Remus tightened his grip onto Sirius’ shoulders, near biting, but Sirius said nothing, just smiled, held onto him, held him together.

“I’ve got you, Moons,” Sirius whispered, staring into Remus’ eyes, they were so bright, so bright and open, just like they were last night. Sirius felt startled by this new dependency, this closeness, _trust_. He stepped back slowly, gaze locked with Remus’ until his own thighs pressed against the seat of the bike, Remus before him, holding his shoulders, Sirius’ hands braced on his forearms. As soon as he made contact with it, Remus flinched as if he were expecting something awful. “I’ve got you, trust me. It’s okay.”

“I can’t get on it,” Remus said, his voice tight and tinny from the back of his throat, all tenderness and fear. “I can’t—can’t do that.” His eyes finally flickered away from Sirius’ face and to the bike for a moment and something raced across his face like a memory or a dream or something painful.

Sirius tightened his grip on Remus’ arms. “It’s okay, you don’t have to. It’s okay.”

Remus bit at the black of his lip ring, mouth pulling to the side in something close to a grimace. Sirius ached for him, concentrated on keeping his fingers from shaking, concentrated on being there for him, stalwart and wonderful and everything he might need. Softly, slowly, after a moment, Remus reached out with one hand—the scars across his knuckles were silver in the light—and braced it against the seat of the bike, gingerly, as if the leather might scorch him. Sirius let them sink together, bracing against the bike to take Remus’ weight, pressing kisses to the mandala at his jaw.

“It’s okay, Moons, it’s okay.” Sirius felt like either of them might spontaneously come apart at the seams, held together only by mid-morning kisses in the country sunlight and sheer force of will. He wound his arms tight around Remus’ middle, taking his weight, letting him lean and trust and open up. Remus pressed his mouth into Sirius’ shoulder, over and over tasting his skin like it was medicine to the whole situation, like the two of them together might just manage it.

They broke away slowly, Remus stepping back, when the front door opened, James and Lily appearing there. Sirius squeezed Remus’ hands tightly as they moved away and gave Remus the most reassuring look he could muster. Remus, his amber eyes so fever-bright, nodded back and brought him in for a kiss, all tenderness and soft brushes of lips. It said more than either of them could. _I trust you, we drift together_.

“Right,” Sirius said, pulling away with wonder and affection clouding his mind, turning to James and Lily. “Which one of you is coming on the bike then?”

With a grin, James retrieved the spare helmet from the porch and climbed on the bike behind Sirius. They let the car pull off first before Sirius kicked the engine to life and set off on the journey back to London.

It was a few minutes away from Potter Farm when James piped up. “You and Moony talk about things, last night?”

Sirius grinned, leaning them both into a corner. “Nah. Got distracted.” It was nothing like a distraction though, nothing like avoiding anything real. It had been the beginning, middle and end of everything, the only thing that mattered. True, perhaps, they still had a propensity to fuck instead of talk, but it didn’t seem so much of a barrier. Remus knew what Sirius had been sheltering him from for so long, and now, perhaps they could start healing together, knitting, melding, together, together.

James’ laugh could strip paint. “I bet you did.”

An answer on his lips, Sirius tapped James on the arm, an age-old signal of _hold on tight_ , whilst he opened the throttle and overtook a large truck through one of the country roads. When they had pulled back in, Sirius sighed softly. “I know we should talk though. We’re getting there.”

“I know.” James paused and his breath huffed through the intercom. “We told him pretty much everything, you know.” Sirius made a noise to say he was listening. In a way, James was right to bring up this kind of thing on the bike. Somehow, it made everything easier to process. His anxiety switched off when he was on the road, his blood returned to his body and sank back into his veins instead of whirling around his head. The words seemed to bypass every one of his numerous self-defence mechanisms. “About school. What we managed to get from that police investigation before she paid them off, about the Christmas party. Everything after too… he really wanted to help with your nightmares.”

“You’re good to me, Prongs.”

James squeezed him around the middle for a moment and Sirius was irrevocably reminded of the fierce hug James gave him the night of the Christmas Party, when he turned up at Potter Farm with a bloody nose and no sense of how the hell he had gotten there, mumbling about Regulus and leaving him to the crows. “We’re good to each other, Padfoot. That’s what you do for your brother.”

 

It was two nights later Sirius woke up with a ragged breath. Cousin Bella’s fingers were still tight around his neck, holding him down towards that glass coffee table where Evan Rosier had racked up neat, little lines of _the good stuff_. Her voice was still in his ear; _it’s just what happens, Siri, it’s just what we do. Shh and be good, it’ll all be fine._ But her fingers were so, so tight on the back of his neck. So tight Sirius felt them now, waking, nearly ten years later. He sat up and swung his legs from bed, breath heaving in and out of his lungs as if he had been holding them, the phantom burn at the back of his throat.

Beside him, Remus stirred. “Padfoot?”

Sirius stood, instinctively trying to gain some distance from the bed, Bella’s words still whirling around his brain, her fingers still there, Evan Rosier’s fingers on his knee holding him down, pinning him to the seat until he had done as they asked. Walburga’s gaze across the room, waiting, watching.

He blinked and Remus was in front of him, holding his hands out in front of him, offering reassurance. He didn’t touch Sirius though. Distantly, Sirius knew it was because of James’ coaxing, James talking him through what he did. Don’t touch him unless he wants it, touch makes it all worse when he’s like this, wait for him. Just let him know you’re here. He’s not there, they can’t get him anymore, they can’t hurt him. He’d told Lily the same when they all moved in together, brought her into it too, years ago.

“It’s okay, Pads,” Remus breathed, all criss-crossed with silver in the mid-night light, his hands held out. “I’m here, I’m here.”

Shaking, Sirius reached out, his knees buckling. “Moons—” But Cousin Bella was there, her fingers on his neck, nails digging in. Walburga was there. _You’ll fucking do what I ask, you little brat. Because that’s your job as a Black, you’ll sit and you’ll do what they ask and you’ll smile and you’ll ask Evan about the business._ _I don’t want to see your face here for the rest of the night._ Sirius sank into Remus, hands skittering over his arms. He was too scared to grip on, too scared to make Remus feel those gripping fingers. He didn’t want to hold on too tight but his knees were going.

“I got you, Pads, I got you.” Remus held onto him instead. Not digging nails and bruising fingers, just his arms, around Sirius’ waist, holding him up. He pressed his mouth into Sirius’ hair, a little damp from his cold sweat, murmuring to him.

The walls were coming down, crumbling, disintegrating, washing away with the ebb and flow of their ocean, swept into the tide and out to the depths of it, lost into murky green, far away from amber and grey, from both of them, together, together, together. God, the walls hadn’t so much as been touched in _years_ , and yet here they were falling, falling together and Remus was quivering too, somewhere beneath Sirius’ rasping breaths.

“Stay, stay, stay stay, don’t go.” Sirius drew in a big shuddering breath against Remus’ collarbone, the warmth of him there.

“I won’t. I won’t, Pads.”

And then he was guiding Sirius back to bed, gently, with the most feather-light touches, reassuring. “C’mon, it’s okay. I’ve got you.” Soft kisses to Sirius’ hair, shaky little breaths on his temple. Then the covers, and Sirius’ weighted blanket from the foot of the bed, hooked around his shoulders. “I’m here, love.”

In some ways it was both easier and harder than standing at the kitchen sink. Remus’ presence was reassuring in such a different way to James’, soft words rather than a kind of stalwart silence that spanned fifteen years, but it was comfort and Sirius let himself wallow in it. Sirius just let himself be held, let Remus get a bottle of water from the bedside, let Remus press kisses to his hair and murmur to him until he slipped off to sleep.

When they woke in the morning, they were entwined still, pressed together. Remus’ eyes were atop dark circles, and he woke with the slightest movement of Sirius’ head on his shoulder. He ran his fingers through Sirius’ hair and peered at him with bright amber eyes.

“You okay?”

Sirius nodded. “Thank you.”

 

A week later was newly-assigned Date Night. Meaning that James and Lily were out to a local Mexican restaurant, probably attempting to eat their weight in quesadillas, which seemed entirely fair. Remus and Sirius could’ve gone out too; they debated it for a while, whilst brushing their teeth that morning, hips bumping together at the sink.

But they much preferred to stay cuddled on the sofa. The domesticity was sickening sometimes, wasn’t it? It was contrasted by a wild night at Heaven on Saturday, with a few too many vodka Red Bulls and some very nearly indecent dancing to Def Leppard. Remus had to wear a particularly high-necked jumper to work on Tuesday for the way his throat had bloomed purple under Sirius’ ministrations. Thankfully, Sirius’ tattoos covered most of their other sins.

At the stove, Sirius stirred a pot of pasta sauce as Remus hooked up his phone to the speakers. Usually, Sirius was a bit of a vinyl snob, admittedly, but Remus’ playlists were a thing of beauty, just the right vibe, and he had one for every occasion. Most of the shop playlist was his management; Sirius, James and Lily just came in and queued up a handful of songs every so often.

Their silence was totally companionable as they moved around each other, Remus to retrieve two bottles of beer from the fridge as Sirius tended to the pasta. Work nights were not for drinking, but a beer with a nice dinner was a crime to pass up, and Sirius didn’t have an early client in the morning. Remus’ hand rested on his lower back as he cracked the tops from the beers, humming idly along a Radiohead song Sirius didn’t recognise. Sirius was mid-swig of his beer when the opening beat to _We Love to Boogie_ started.

“I love this song!” Sirius said, slamming his beer down and ignoring the small amount of froth that overflowed from the neck. “Dance with me, c’mon, you gotta dance to this song.”

“The sauce…” Remus protested weakly, smiling.

“It’ll be fine for three minutes. Come on, you wanted to dance on Saturday eh?” The love-bites had only just faded.

“That was Def Leppard, and I’d drank a lot of gin.”

“Mm, but this is Bolan, you know I love him.” Sirius pressed closer, kissing Remus’ mouth and leaving a hot trail down to his neck.

“Fine…” Remus agreed after really, barely any convincing at all and Sirius sprang back, grinning. Remus laughed, letting Sirius swing him by the waist around into the small space in the kitchen where they could dance together. Sirius wiggled his hips as Remus sat his beer down and quickly grabbed his hands, attempting—and failing—to dance one of the Lindy Hop steps Alice and Frank kept trying to teach them, singing along.

 _“We love to boogie! Jitterbug boogie, Bolan pretty boogie! We love to boogie on a_ —” here Sirius interjected with a snort of laughter— _“Thursday night!”_

It didn’t take long before they were laughing into each other, still valiantly trying to sing and dance but tripping over each other every step of the way, wildly off-beat but enamoured with it all. Dancing to T. Rex felt like letting loose, like every thread holding weight over Sirius’ shoulders had snapped, Remus’ hands in his, their hips wiggling, shoulders moving, laughing and laughing. The song faded off to more laughter, Remus tipping into Sirius and bracing on the countertop, Sirius stretching up to laugh into Remus’ neck.

Remus sighed softly, a breath of contentment, warm on Sirius’ forehead. “I love you.”

Sirius wasn’t sure he’d even registered the words but his mouth was opening and syllables were coming out. “I love you too.”

Then, at once, they both pressed back. Sirius stared at Remus, disbelieving they had both just said that on the wings of laughter, in their kitchen on a Thursday. But… it didn’t seem to matter? It felt _right_. It was true, wasn’t it? The truth slipping out between songs, the playlist crossing to the next track, heedless of the fact it had brought the world down around their ears.

“Pads… Yeah?” Remus said, his hands sliding down Sirius’ back to press along the spine of the dragon there.

“Yeah. Christ, yeah, Moons—” Sirius leant up to kiss him, breathless and exhilarated, reaching to tangle his fingers into auburn curls. Remus responded instantly, sweeping them closer, pressing out every inch of space between them. “I love you,” Sirius murmured again between kisses as Remus backed him against the counter, seemingly unable to stop it tumbling from his mouth now. He couldn’t stop grinning, either, the shape of Remus’ wide smile against his mouth too, grinning to each other between kisses, giddy and euphoric.

“I love you—God.” Remus slotted their bodies together, two pairs of hands skittering over every bit of skin they could find, reassuring in their presence, their resolute _hereness_ , because they did, oh, they did.

“The sauce— _ah_ , the sauce, Rem,” Sirius ushered out, already reaching for the pot to take it from the heat, moving away as little as he could from the sanctuary of Remus’ mouth. Dinner could wait with the way heat was racing through them both. Remus tipped his head to the side, kissing a path down Sirius’ jaw to his throat, hot and needy. Sirius scrambled to pull them closer, sliding his hand between them to palm over Remus’ erection beneath his jeans. “Ah, c’mere, c’mere, I love you…”

“Fuck, _Padfoot_ , yes—love you.”

Together, they fumbled over fastening and zips until they could reach warm flesh, Sirius curling his fingers around both of their cocks, pressed together, Remus’ fingers linking with his a second later. They fell into wonderful rhythm together, practised in their togetherness, months of bringing each other, plunging into the throes of pleasure and they sought it together again. Sirius ducked his head to swirl his tongue over the piercing at Remus’ throat, warm flesh and cool metal, as Remus pressed kisses to his temple.

Remus came first into their joined hands, with a flush of warmth and slickness over Sirius’ cock and their fingers, his free hand on Sirius’ waist, holding onto him, gasping into a kiss that Sirius met him for with ferocity. Sirius clenched his jaw and nipped at Remus’ bottom lip as his orgasm rushed up like the roar of an engine and then he was moaning and coming with a snap of his hips forward.

“I love you,” Sirius whispered with his first coherent breath, his forehead pressed to Remus’, watching a smile bloom across his lips, pulling at his lip ring, spreading up to the warmth of his eyes.

“I love you.”

“Dinner.”

“Clean up, then dinner.”

“Yeah.”

Sirius felt ridiculously giddy, unmoored by his orgasm and the way Remus’ words had floated him away to a place where nothing else seemed important. His face hurt from smiling so much and he didn’t _care_ that they were standing with their dicks out in the kitchen on a Thursday night, half-cut from beer and happiness, grinning into each other’s mouths because Remus loved him and he loved Remus. Sirius wondered for a while if it were even possible, after everything that had happened. But there it was.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

 

They had a blissful night, with pasta and beer, idle conversation and ridiculous smiles neither could wipe from their faces. After dinner they laid listening to music in bed for the longest time, Sirius’ fingers stroking up and down Remus’ forearm, Remus’ mouth on his shoulder. Just lying together, just listening to the world.

It was only broken once, when Remus ventured to the kitchen for a glass of water, long enough, in theory, after James and Lily had gotten home to be in their room. But Remus’ cry of “Oh Jesus, fu—Christ!” begged to differ. Remus came back to bed with a blush, shaking his head. “I did not want to see Prongs with his mouth—I’m so fucking gay.”

“Mm, and I’m glad for it,” Sirius had said, pulling him back to bed with a smile.

Friday passed quickly. It was unusually busy and Sirius’ half-hours of freedom were eaten up by on-the-fly consultations and a surreal but fantastic Skype call with a rockstar who thought he’d quite like to get some of Sirius’ work. They were really starting to get their name out of tattoo circles and into the mainstream and it was delightful and terrifying all at once.

It was near closing time when Sirius was cleaning up from his last client. Remus had gone across the road to the bakery there. On a Friday night they usually had some great deals on cakes, ready to clear old stock for the weekend rush, and none of the four could pass up a top notch pastry. James was in his room, also cleaning up, and Lily was in the reception.

There was one customer in the shop. He had come in a few minutes earlier—Sirius had heard the door go not long after Remus ducked out—and had been asking Lily all sorts of strangely inquisitive questions about piercings. Sirius made sure his door was ajar, so if Lily did start to sound unsure, or if she said that phrase she, James and Sirius had agreed on—the _Oxford Harlequins_ , because Lily might like to watch _James_ play rugby, but she didn’t care one whit about the teams—when someone was being a creep and they could step in, then he could go in there and tell the weirdo to get the hell out.

Lily hadn’t said it yet. She was fierce in her own right and could put some of the weirdest customers in their place with a well placed barb or a sharp _back the fuck off, mate_. She was answering this man with as little effort as she could passably get by with though, making it painfully obvious they were close to closing time and if he wasn’t going to book anything then he could kindly _fuck off_.

The bell above the door chimed and Sirius set his cloth down, content to leave the rest for tomorrow morning now Remus was back. Ah, and by the smell he’d picked up coffees for them all too. Sirius’ doorway opened towards the front door, so when he stepped through, he saw Remus stood at the front door, but the smile and greeting on his lips died instantly.

Everything seemed to slow down then. Like the seconds were trawling past as hours and Sirius could see it all unfold before him.

Remus looked like he’d seen a ghost. His hands were empty, the bag of cakes and pastries spilled from his hands, a pool of coffee slowly spreading around his feet. He didn’t seem to care he’d just dropped a handful of stuff, though. He was staring at a point past Sirius, towards the reception desk, with a look of sheer, abject horror in his amber eyes, his jaw slack in disbelief and terror and this awful, churning thing Sirius couldn’t place.

Then Sirius turned and saw Lily stood behind the desk, the man before it. Perhaps Lily was asking something of either of them— _Moony? Moony, you alright? Padfoot? What’s_ —but all Sirius heard was ringing in his ears.

He would’ve recognised that man anywhere, seared in his memory with Barcelona rooftops and poolside chairs and a kind of rage Sirius hadn’t felt for such a long time searching for constellations in the sky. Long brown hair, ragged around his face, into a slightly-greying goatee. One long scar down the side of his face over one bright eye. It was the expression he recognised the most—the feral look of his smile, too sharp teeth, all yellow, raring to rip things apart. The kind of dull, lurid, dirty, lecherous mania in his eyes, that screamed dangerous and the kind of terror that Sirius could only recognise now at twenty-five, the kind of look that ruined lives and left teenagers to die in the forest.

Fenrir Greyback grinned and looked right through Sirius to where Remus stood, paralysed, by the door.

“Hello, little one.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry. Please don't kill me. Screaming comments are endlessly appreciated.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't resist posting this one a little sooner than anticipated because of our cliffhanger last week. I really, thoroughly enjoyed your flailing comments last week. Thank you, endlessly. Also, trigger warnings for some minor violence/fist fights and police presence.

 

 _I want to rip him to shreds for what he did to you, Moony. I want to hunt him down and annihilate him_ , _pull him into little pieces, Moony_.

Sirius’ ears were ringing and Remus made a noise like all the breath was knocked out of him and Lily was still asking all sorts of questions but then all of a sudden he was across the room and punching Greyback right in his fucking nose. Sirius didn’t _do_ angry. He curled up in the corner and pretended everything didn’t exist until it went away, he didn’t lash like this, not physically, not like this but then he was grabbing Greyback by the lapels and shoving him backwards, overpowering the larger man for sheer surprise for the moment.

That was all that fucking mattered, just making him fucking _hurt_. Just making him pay for everything he did to Remus, every little thing he ever did wrong to make Remus doubt who he was and have to deal with all his trauma; the betrayal, the hurt of his friends, the physical pain of the accident, the raw pain in his heart for being left for dead.

Sirius didn’t _think_ , he just _did_ , just whatever he needed to make Greyback fucking pay. Sirius and James had gotten into scuffles in school quite often—and went through a period obsessed with _Fight Club_ in their teenage years—so Sirius could throw a punch. Greyback was nearly a foot taller than him and far heavier, but Sirius didn’t care. He didn’t think of anything past the unassailable need to make him fucking _bleed_. Sirius wanted to make him sorry for everything he’d ever done. He had no clue how he’d do it but he just wanted it done, punching and punching, not thinking or talking or _breathing_ but just punching and wanting Greyback to _hurt_.

“James!” Lily screamed, springing back from the desk. Then there was Lily shouting something and James barrelling into the room and trying to pull Sirius’ arm back but Greyback was _laughing_ at him, his awful yellow teeth bared, laughing and _letting_ Sirius punch him in the face like he was above even pain.

 _I’ll fucking kill him, Moony,_ Sirius thought, _I’ll fucking kill him for what he did to you and I’ll make him fucking pay, I’ll do it Moony, I’ll fucking do it I love you I’ll fucking kill him._

Then James was shouting and Lily was talking too, high and fast with no one answering but she kept talking and Sirius couldn’t quite hear what she was saying over the rushing of blood in his ears, and James was still trying to pull on Sirius’ arm but he shrugged it off every single time to punch Greyback in the nose and watch his blood run down over his mouth where he was _still fucking laughing_. And then _Sirius_ was bleeding too, his head was spinning and pounding and there was blood in his mouth and Greyback’s fist to his jaw but Greyback was still laughing and grinning, like it was all one big fucking game and Remus’ whole life was one big game to him.

_I’ll kill him Moony, I fucking swear._

“Padfoot! _Sirius!”_ James was shouting still, trying to push between them or wrench them apart but Sirius wanted Greyback to hurt. Shaking James off, Sirius pushed Greyback towards the corner, crashing off the walls and sending artwork falling from the hooks and smashing onto the floor and was that glass breaking but Sirius shoved Greyback’s head towards the wall and his head cracked off the plaster too and he was still _laughing_. Greyback grinned his feral, wild-horror grin and turned, deflecting a punch and delivering his own square to Sirius’ solar-plexus, well-placed and terrifyingly practised. It knocked Sirius off balance entirely, where he stumbled against the wall in the remnants of broken glass and picture frames.

At once, Greyback pounced, his hand around Sirius’ throat, pinning him to the wall, and Sirius thought for a fleeting moment if he’d ever done this to Remus, sixteen year old Remus, and scrambled out to punch or kick him. A fist connected with his shoulder and a foot to his stomach but Greyback didn’t care.

“Stop that, lad, or you’ll fucking hurt yourself,” he snarled, his teeth bloody and Sirius realised at once that he _hurt_ all over and it was his own blood he could taste in his mouth. Greyback’s hand tightened around his throat and he lashed out again, gasping around the fingers digging into his flesh. James or Lily or Remus must be shouting because he could hear voices but not words, nothing over the incessant rage beating his heart.

_Moony, Moony, Moony. Remus. You can’t have him, I won’t let you fucking have him._

Sirius should’ve realised that James wouldn’t ever be too far behind him in a fight as he came up and pulled Greyback away, an arm around his thick neck. James was stronger than Sirius and Greyback stumbled a little under the wrenching weight of James snatching him away but his hand stayed firm around Sirius’ throat and Sirius’ vision was starting to go a little wavy. He hoped for a fleeting, black-spotted moment, gasping, that Remus was out of there, that he and Lily were somewhere else, because Greyback couldn’t have him.

Blue light flooded the room, and distantly, over the ringing in Sirius’ ears, he heard sirens. He kicked and flailed, struggling for breath. _You can’t fucking have him, you can’t._

With a growl, Greyback threw James to the side, where he stumbled back into the wall and rapped his head on the frame of a mirror and Sirius tried to shout but his throat had closed up. Greyback turned back to Sirius and grinned, rolling his tongue over his teeth. He leaned closer and his breath was hot and fetid and washed over Sirius and he felt fucking faint but Greyback couldn’t have Remus, he couldn’t, he couldn’t. The sirens were closer now, screaming in Sirius’ ears, bathing the room in blue.

“You think he’s yours. But he’s _mine_ ,” Greyback whispered, the words lighting up his feral eyes and Sirius felt his stomach drop and his brain whirl with desperation and fear and this pure fucking rage he’d never felt before but he felt it itching his fingers now to tear his man apart. “You tell him I can _always_ find him.”

 _Like fuck I will_ , Sirius wanted to spit but words wouldn’t come so he spat in Greyback’s face instead, ruby red with blood and he hoped it stung. Greyabck flinched and at last, Sirius’ flailing biker boot connected between Greyback’s legs and _at last_ Greyback reared back with a grunt and let Sirius drop like a rag-doll. The front door of the shop burst open and Sirius’ blurred vision swam with black and fluorescent yellow but then Greyback shouldered past James and presumably out of the fire escape and Sirius wanted to fucking scream.

At once the shop was full of police officers and Sirius was being crowded in the corner by a tiny woman with her hair in a stern little bun and Sirius was sure she’d be able to snap him in half if she so wished. Sirius dabbed uselessly at the blood running from his nose and found his knuckles split and scraped and his mouth full of blood.

Remus. That was all he thought about. Where were he and Lily? Were they _safe?_

James was talking still, dazed, his voice rough, but he was explaining everything. At length, the tiny police officer asked Sirius some questions about what happened, strategically trying to keep him separate from the others. It was pretty clear from the state of him he’d started the fight and so he probably should be kept away for questioning but Sirius wanted James’ comfort. He wanted to know where Remus and Lily were.

“Yes,” Sirius explained to the police officer throughout her questioning. “I did throw the first punch. I punched him a lot. No, it wasn’t self defence, not for me. He—he did that to Remus _—_ ” He waved off a hand there, not wanting to go into details with James right there and he and Lily knew nothing but now they would know.

“He’s fucking wanted!” Sirius said, clearing his throat with the way the words ripped out of him and he must’ve bruised already around the throat for how it felt. “He’s... Just let me see Remus, please. I need to know he’s okay.”

The tiny woman muttered something placating to him and Sirius sank back against the wall, inexplicably tired now but his brain was whirling and whirring and wouldn’t shut up. He hoped one of the police officers had gone after Greyback. The idea of him being out there somewhere, to impress on the edges of their consciousness and make them check every shadow twice seemed like something right out of a horror movie and it sat heavy, undigested, in Sirius’ churning stomach. How had he known where they were? How had he followed them and just turned up here and upended everything? Sirius looked around the shop with glassy eyes, barely seeing the wreckage around him. Most of the shop looked alright, if a little jumbled, but the corner he was sprawled in was covered in broken glass, artwork from the walls all over the floor, a glass jewellery cabinet in the corner smashed and sharded, spattered with blood.

Sirius closed his eyes, swallowing against the pain in his throat and wanting to just disappear now the anger had filtered away. He still wanted Greyback dead. Nothing else would assuage that, not after coming face to face with him and seeing that expression on Remus’ face. He wanted to make him hurt and make him pay and if he had gotten away from the police after all that then Sirius would stop at nothing to make sure he never hurt Remus again.

Oh, Remus. Sirius wouldn’t ever forget the hollow, cold terror in Remus’ eyes; the look of him standing there, coffee spreading out around his feet like already-spilled blood. In the early evening light, he was usually so warm but then, there, in the doorway staring at Greyback, it picked out every one of his scars and made him look sixteen again, frightened, terrified, his worst nightmares come true to walk into his safe space and see his abuser. Because that’s what Greyback _was_ , no matter how many times his shitty friends from school told him they got off worse, Remus had it bad too. Sirius could see the scars ten years later, inside and out. Remus had let him see them.

The door to the office cracked open a moment later, Lily’s wide green eyes peering out, then she glanced back and Sirius saw Remus pressed into the furthest corner from the door, his eyes still full of sheer terror, shoulders drawn high. He looked so small, shrunk into the corner between the bin and the counter, hands braced on the wall behind him, ready to _run_. From here Sirius could see he was shaking, trembling, staring at the door as if he expected the hounds of Hell to be slavering there for him.

At once, Sirius scrambled to his feet and threw himself over the gap between them. “Remus! Rem—Moony— _ah!_ ’ Another police officer caught Sirius around the middle and pulled him back as two others stepped into the office to talk to Lily and Remus. Sirius knew he shouldn’t have struggled against him but every fibre of his being wanted Remus, to make sure he was okay, to take Remus’ face between his hands and kiss him and tell him he would let nothing hurt him again. So Sirius threw himself against his bonds. “Moony! Rem—no, just let me fuckin—let me see him—I just need—Remus!”

The door snapped shut and Sirius blinked and he was in the back of a police car, blood turning sour in the back of his mouth. He let out a string of expletives and let his head fall back on the seat and let his eyes fall closed. If he had the chance again he would’ve still punched Greyback’s lights out, that was for sure. The police couldn’t do anything to him, surely, couldn’t charge him with anything, not when the… _thing_ he punched was wanted for so many things Sirius could lose count listing them.

At the police station Sirius kept his head down and followed the officer through to an interview room. At least he wasn’t handcuffed, he thought for a moment, sinking into the chair and sighing at the way his bones ached. He hoped Greyback felt worse.

The last time Sirius had been at a police station had been during his first few months with the Potter’s, when Fleamont had been all righteous indignation and an urge to make it right and it had nearly happened until Orion paid off the higher-ups and the judges and it was never heard of again. Sirius sighed and rubbed his hands over his face, tender and bloody already.

Sirius blinked slowly as people stepped in the room with him, milling around. He didn’t know how long he’d been sat there by himself, the white walls whirling around him. He couldn’t quite focus on the words for a moment, as if they were unimportant and maybe he had smacked his head or something because it felt like Greyback’s hand was still around his neck and where was Remus? He wanted Remus.

Someone was checking him over, shining a light in his eyes, asking him the sort of questions he answered with a strange disembodied voice. The flash of a camera bulb over the bruises on his neck and the splits on his knuckles and the trickle of blood from his nose. More questions, sterile swabs, a butterfly stitch or two over a cut on his eyebrow he didn’t even know was there. Then more movement and Sirius just wanted Remus but an officer was settling across the table from him, with a pen and paper and this expectant look and Sirius wanted to just see Remus.

“State your name for the record please,” said the officer, clicking on a tape recorder.

Sirius cleared his throat around the bruises there and swallowed back tears. He just wanted to see Remus. “Sirius Orion Black.”

“In your own words, Mr. Black, can you tell me what happened at the address earlier today?”

“Well—” Sirius cleared his throat again— “I came—came out of my room to see Moo—Remus in the main room by the door and he had this look and—” cleared his throat again— “then I saw _him_ , Greyback, Fenrir Greyback, and I just—I just… I don’t know… Lost it, I guess. He left Remus to _die_ in the forest when he was sixteen and now he just turns up out of nowhere a—”

The police officer cleared his throat and set his pen down on a sheaf of paper.

Sirius recognised he was rambling and cleared his throat again, trying to shut down every well of emotion bubbling and boiling inside of him. “I punched him. I don’t deny it, I punched him and punched him and cracked his head off the wall and I would’ve done it even if you were stood there in front of me because he left the man I love to die in the forest.”

“You and uh, Mr. Lupin—” the officer glanced up from his papers at Sirius— “are in a romantic relationship?”

“Yes.” _And what of it?_ Sirius gritted his teeth and swallowed back a scream.

He wanted Remus. He wanted James, Lily. Family. Comfort.

The officer made a noncommittal noise. “And what did… Mr. Greyback do when you and Mr. Lupin saw him in the shop?”

Sirius knew what he was asking. Did Greyback start it, did he incite anything? Like his presence wasn’t enough to cite a fucking massacre on Sirius’ insides and Remus’ wellbeing and— _God_ , where was Remus? Sirius needed to see he was okay. “He—Greyback… looked at Remus and grinned at him and said—” Sirius cleared his throat, the words feeling heavy on his tongue for the kind of things they implied— “ _hello, little one._ ”

Sirius’ fist clenched white-knuckled on the edge of the table. When the officer didn’t offer another question for a beat or two, Sirius pushed a hand through his hair and huffed out his own breath between bloody lips. “Where’s Remus? I need to see him.”

“You’ll be fine here for a moment, Mr. Black. Just a few more questions.”

“I don’t—” Sirius pressed his fingers over his eyes, his head spinning— “I just need to see Remus, please.”

“Did Mr. Greyback say anything about where he had been or might be going?”

So they hadn’t found him then. Terror welled up in Sirius’ heart. Where was Remus? “No. Nothing. Just said—” Sirius cleared his throat again, everything fucking _hurt._ He didn’t need to close his eyes to remember, the words were right there, humming at the back of the animal part of his brain that only knew fear— “ _you think he’s yours, but he’s mine. You tell him I can always find him._ ”

The officer wrote something down and the silence yawned and Sirius wanted to scream yet again. For some reason, the fight-or-flight part of his brain was half-expecting Orion to walk through the door any moment, even though he was twenty five and hadn’t seen his parents in years but all he knew was fear now, not even anger any more, just fear. His fear knew Orion intimately, had hard wired the emotion to the sight of his father’s face and the _schtink_ of a fire poker and the exact smell of the carpet in Orion’s office. Sirius blinked rapidly and fought to stay in the present; this was for Remus.

“And then, what happened after he said that?”

Sirius huffed again and tried to pinch the bridge of his nose to stave off a headache but the motion made pain shoot through his skull and sharply drop his hand. “I don’t… he had me round the throat—” Sirius was distantly thankful Orion never had him around the throat like that, only ever the fire poker or his boot or a well placed trip or a belt, never as _personal_ as his hands, never anything close to touch— “and I don’t remember. He—he must’ve gone out of the fire escape… it leads back onto Gatcombe Lane… I don’t—” Sirius didn’t realise there was a sob in his throat until it escaped with his next words— “don’t let him get Remus, please.”

Sirius couldn’t bare the thought of Greyback turning up somewhere else, seeing that look on Remus’ face again, having to watch his heart fracture, wondering what might have happened if Remus were alone with him.

The officer muttered something into the recorder and pushed his chair back. “That’ll be all for now, Mr. Black. Just stay here a moment and I’ll be back.”

“Where’s Remus? Or James, or Lily, are they here?”

Sirius’ question went unanswered and after a moment, he folded his arms on the table and pressed his forehead into them, clenching his eyes shut. How had Greyback found them? God, so much could’ve gone wrong—even worse than it had already. What if Greyback knew where they lived? What if he turned up at the flat one day and—

“Alright, Mr. Black,” said the officer, his mouth pressed in a line as he ducked through the doorway. How long had it been? Seconds? Hours? “With me, if you will.”

Sirius held his breath and dutifully followed. Last time he’d got in trouble with the police he’d been seventeen and they’d been much more lenient but now he was twenty five and had just assaulted a man, although that _monster_ barely qualified for the term.

At a large counter, another officer gave Sirius back what must’ve been the contents of his pockets. Had he emptied them himself? Everything was just a blur, but he silently pushed his phone back into his pocket, his keys, wallet, a packet of mints Remus had gotten for him at the shop that morning.

The officer said something but it all sort of sounded hazy, like Sirius was underwater and the words didn’t quite reach. _Released under investigation… when we find the injured party—_ Sirius must’ve scoffed at that because he was given a rather stern look before the officer continued— _we will invite you back. Don’t leave the country, make yourself available to officers if they so require…_

Sirius stumbled out onto the pavement, surprised that the sun was setting but sort of expecting it from the way his insides were aching and churning. He looked around, bewildered for a moment, searching for something to set him on the right track.

A hand fell on his arm and Sirius yelped, ready for it to be Greyback, ready to fight again, and turned to raise his fist but then it was James and he was pulling Sirius into a tight hug. “Fucking hell, Sirius.”

“Jamie,” Sirius hissed into his shoulder, his ribs springing with pain but relishing in it anyway because here was James, exactly where Sirius always needed him. “Where’s Moony? Is he okay? Please—fuck—you’ve seen him?”

“They let me out a few minutes before you did. I get a bit involved and apparently I’m a suspect too… I don’t know what they’re charging you with though, did they say?”

“Where’s _Moony_ , Prongs? I don’t know what the hell they charged me with but I’m out of there and I need to see Remus. Please.”

“Yeah, sorry—fuck, my head is everywhere. I just spoke to Lily just before you got out. She and Remus are back at the flat. Got escorted there after witness statements…” James stepped up to a taxi in the rank outside the station and ushered Sirius into the first available one. “She says—” he sighed and broke off to give their address to the driver and Sirius stared at him, just waiting for an answer— “She says he’s in the bathroom, locked the door. Said he was fine but won’t speak to her…”

“Fuck.” Sirius let his head drop against the seat. “I let Greyback get away.”

James was staring at Sirius’ neck when he opened his eyes again. He was sure it was bruised for how fucked-out his voice sounded, and not in a good way, either. “He nearly choked you, Pads…” James watched the buildings pass by for a moment. “I know his name’s Greyback, now, but what happened? Remus didn’t say a word to Lily when they were back in the car, and they separated them for statements…”

Sirius rubbed his hands over his face, hissing in pain at the bruising under one eye and what was probably a fractured nose. “He… Moony had a bike accident, when he was sixteen. Greyback was the driver, Moony the pillion… Greyback left him for dead in the forest after they crashed there…”

“Shit.”

“And he… I don’t know, did a whole load of disgusting things to Moony’s friends… really fucked him over in the head too…”

“Fuck… Sirius. If I’d have known that I would’ve stabbed him with the letter-opener, no questions asked…” James ran a hand through his hair and Sirius noticed his knuckles were bruised too.

“I know… That’s what I found out about you know, in Spain, that’s why he didn’t speak to me. That’s why I didn’t tell you, Jamie… not my secret to tell.”

“Yeah.”

Sirius sighed, agitated at the traffic and the distance from their flat. He needed Remus. “Can I use your phone, speak to Lily? Mine is flat.”

James handed his phone over and Sirius punched in the code, quick-dialling Lily. She answered in a heartbeat. “James?”

“No, it’s Padfoot. Are you okay? Is Remus okay? Are either of you hurt?”

Lily breathed a sigh of relief through the speaker. “No. Not hurt. Wishing I’d got a crack at him myself for the way Moony was upset. What’s going on? Are you coming home? James is with you?”

“Yeah, Prongs can tell you what happened… We’re in a taxi right now.” Sirius swallowed and shot James a reassuring smile as the other man shuffled closer to hear the conversation, his arm around Sirius’ shoulders. “Can you see if Moony will take the phone please?”

“Okay—” Lily’s voice got a little broken there, like glass shot through with cracks but not yet shattered— “he won’t speak to me, just went straight to the bathroom… Hold on, I’ll put you on speaker… Remus? Sirius is on the phone… he and James are on their way home… will you speak to him?”

Remus’ voice just barely registered through the speaker and the door on the other side. His voice sounded croaky, whispered and painful. “No.”

Lily sighed, transferring the phone back to her ear. “You won’t be long, will you?”

“No—” Sirius glanced out of the window— “five minutes I’d think… just… try and keep him talking please? I’m… worried for him.”

“Yeah… of course. Pass me to James, please?”

“Yeah. Love you, Lils.” He handed the phone to James, who had a short conversation with Lily confirming they were both alive and as well as could be in present circumstance. “What happened?” Sirius asked as James hung up the phone and rubbed a hand across his face. “I don’t remember anything beyond throwing the first punch.”

“Well… Lily shouted for me, and I came in and you were… wailing on him—Greyback. I shoved Lily and Remus into the office and told her to call the cops. I’ve not… I haven’t seen you that mad before… ever. I thought you were gonna kill him, really, I did…”

Sirius sighed, feeling tears gather in his throat. He deserved it though. Sirius wouldn’t have regretted a thing. All he remembered thinking was _I won’t let you have Moony, you can’t._

“And then, well, I tried to get him off of you and we saw how well that went because the guy is apparently 6’5 of muscle and hair. Then the cops turned up and from what I understand, just fucking lost him somewhere around Greyfriars… _Fuck._ ” James gritted his teeth, the muscle of his jaw working as he scraped another hand through his hair. Sirius happened to agree. _Fuck_ seemed like the only appropriate thing to say.

“Thank you, Prongs. Like always.”

James squeezed the arm around his shoulders. “I tell you, don’t I? It’s what brothers do.”

When the taxi pulled up outside, James handed him a twenty as Sirius threw himself out of the taxi and up the stairs with newfound energy. He had to see Remus, to make sure he was okay. Sirius tore through the stairwell, fumbling with his keys on the landing before practically falling into the hallway. Lily was up like a shot from the sofa, her face drawn and pale.

“Oh fuck, Pads, thank God it’s you I was so—”

Sirius crossed the room and drew her into a quick, fierce hug, wondering if he could make the gesture say everything he couldn’t voice. He kissed her forehead before Lily pushed him away gently. “Go to Remus…”

He didn’t need any more encouragement. Sirius practically flew down the hall and pressed himself against the bathroom door, mouth against the gap of the door. “Moony? It’s me, love. Talk to me.” Sirius closed his eyes, hearing soft sniffling from the other side of the door.

“Padfoot?” God, he sounded wrecked.

“Yeah, love, I’m here. I’m sorry I wasn’t but now I’m here.” Sirius swallowed and slowly tried the door, not knowing what he would face on the other side of the door, not knowing how much danger Remus might be in, but his insides hurt with worry and his face ached and he just wanted Remus. “Y’gonna let me in, love? I want my Moony... if he’ll have me…”

Silence, for a moment, two, three. Sirius glanced away to see James and Lily embracing in the living room, Lily’s face tense with worry, and pressed back to the door. Then, movement, and the lock clicked back into place. Every single strand of Sirius wanted to push through that door and tackle Remus into a hug, but he didn’t know what Remus would be like right now, so Sirius clenched his fingers on the door frame and let Remus pull open the door.

 _Fuck_ , he looked awful. Sirius barely had a moment to glimpse dark circles under his eyes, the rest of his face frighteningly pale, his gorgeous eyes red-rimmed, before Remus pulled him into the bathroom and into a bruising hug. Sirius stumbled a little, pushing the door shut behind him, before wrapping his arms tight around Remus. The other man pressed his face into Sirius’ neck and after a few deep, shuddering breaths that quivered through his ribcage, Remus started crying. His tears left hot splotches on Sirius’ shirt and Sirius clenched his bruised and split fingers into Remus’ shirt and held on tight.

“I’m here, Moons. I’m here.” He pressed his mouth into Remus’ hair and squeezed his eyes shut at the tidal wave of emotion crashing over him, so strong it nearly brought him to his knees. “I love you, I’m here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I, as always, would love to hear your thoughts and opinions! 🖤


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Wednesday chapter! It's like the olden days. here's hoping I'll stick to the schedule but I make no promises, sorry guys, my muse is fickle right now! As always, thank you endlessly for all your comments and for being here with me!

 

Remus’ fingers were tight in Sirius’ shirt, where a mixture of his and Greyback’s blood was speckled over the black cotton. Sirius’ nose was pressed into Remus’ hair as he clung onto him, the other man going heavy with fatigue and a vulnerability Sirius had never seen from him before. It would be frightening if there were any space in Sirius’ heart for other emotions besides love and a sort of righteous anger, a will stronger than anything to protect this person from whatever might want to harm him, come what may.

“I’m here, Moons.” Sirius whispered, aching with the exertion, holding Remus up and holding his own body up, his throat aching from Greyback’s tight grip. He leant back against the sink and extracted one hand from Remus’ grip to brush through the auburn hair over his forehead. Remus’ tears were hot on Sirius’ shoulder and his chest was quivering against Sirius’. “I’m here, he’s gone. I won’t let anything happen.”

At last, after what felt like millennia and seconds all at once, Remus sniffed and pressed his face into Sirius’ neck. Sirius hissed sharply and swallowed back a grunt of pain at the pressure around his throat but Remus straightened instantly, looking at Sirius’ face with wide, teary eyes. “What—” then his eyes flickered to Sirius’ neck and his face darkened and crumpled all at once and his knees gave out and Sirius tightened the arm around his waist to try and keep him upright— “he… he did that to you?”

Sirius nodded, haltingly, trying to lean Remus into the sink else they’d both slip down onto the floor. “It’s okay, tho—”

“No it’s _fucking_ not.” Remus’ vehemence surprised Sirius, his voice thick with still unshed tears.

“Moons…”

“No, _fuck_ , no it’s not okay because he hurt _you_. All he wanted was me, if I’d have just… if I’d have just… let him—”

“No, Remus, don’t fucking say that—”

“—Let him do whatever then you would be okay!”

“That’s—no, I won’t _ever_ let him get you—”

“But no, he has to hurt the people I care about to get to me and then he still didn’t _want_ me but I still feel fucking violated! I still feel like I’m carrying it around even though he never laid a finger on me and now he’s here and he hurt _you_ and you are so fucking important to me Sirius and he fucking h-hurt you!”

Sirius sank against the side of the bathtub, pulling Remus against him. “No, Moony. No, you don’t ever, _ever_ hold yourself responsible for what _he_ did, okay? Besides—” Sirius pecked a kiss to Remus’ nose— “I was the one who punched him first, okay? I don’t _care_ what happens so long as you’re here, okay?”

Remus nodded, chest still heaving, the fire of anger still in his eyes. “He hurt you, Sirius. I let him hurt you.”

“No, love. You were with Lily, where you should be, _away_ from him because I won’t let him get you. I’m sorry I acted like I did but I… I couldn’t let him get you.”

After a moment, Remus’ gaze flickered away and he let his head drop onto Sirius’ shoulder. His voice was just a breath that barely grazed the fabric of Sirius’ shirt. “I was _so_ scared.”

 _Shit_. If Sirius wasn’t sure he would never tell Remus of Greyback’s words to him before—they echoed in his head even now. _I can always find him_ —then now he was. He couldn’t ever imagine saying that to Remus, hearing those words out of his own mouth, cold terror dripping dread down his spine and watching the same happen to Remus. He would keep that with him, where he stored the rest of the memories too awful to safely file away and too painful to keep at the forefront of his mind. He heard his own voice there too, clinging to James, to Lily, to Euphemia and Fleamont, the horrors of Grimmauld Place so obvious now the scales had fallen from his eyes. _I was so scared_.

Sirius tipped his chin up and stared at the ceiling, willing away tears and wrapping his arms tight around Remus’ shoulders. All he could do was be there for Remus. “I’m proud of you. You’re here and you looked him in the face and you survived.”

“I don’t feel like I survived…” Remus said darkly, his head still on Sirius’ shoulder. “I don’t feel like I survived at all. I feel like I’m still there and so is he and I can’t escape him.”

Sirius blinked rapidly, tightening his fingers around Remus’ shirt. God, he had said the same things not so long ago, cheeks tear-streaked and _fuck_ , he wouldn’t cry. This was for Remus, this was Remus’ and Sirius could just be there for him. He brushed tenderly at Remus’ hair again, just holding him, feeling his shoulders shake, the moon scar between his shoulders resting just beneath Sirius’ arm. “You did though, okay? I’m here with you and I won’t let him come anywhere near you, Rem.”

Remus sighed, tilting his head a little to look up at Sirius and Sirius was sure he’d never looked more broken, beaten by life, upended entirely by the reappearance of the one person he did not ever want to see again in his life, the very thing he had ran away from nearly ten years ago. “Yeah.” He lifted a hand and pressed it against Sirius’ thigh for a moment, before reaching up and lacing their fingers.

Unmoored. Together.

Sirius ducked down and kissed the top of Remus’ head, squeezing their fingers back. “You’re not… I didn’t scare you, did I? I’m sorry I was so…”

“Pissed off?” Remus shook his head, his lips quirking into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes but that was okay, for now. Sirius could understand not being able to smile with the weight of the world on your shoulders. “I thought _I_ got angry but you were so angry…”

“Yeah…” Fear welled in Sirius’ heart. _Had_ he scared Remus off?

“You didn’t scare me.”

The release of a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. “Okay… okay.” Sirius turned and kissed Remus’ temple, then between his brows, down to the tip of his nose. He tightened his arm around Remus’ shoulders and held him close together. Lily and James were talking quietly in the kitchen, but it floated through the flat without the ambient noise of any music. It was strange, Sirius thought, to have silence in their flat, usually so full of conversation or at the very least, music. It felt bereft. But he had Remus, tucked under his shoulder, needing love and comfort and Sirius would be damned if he couldn’t give that to him now. He pushed aside the kernel of fear between his lungs, the bit that knew Orion so well, the bit that waited for crows and fire pokers, and took a breath. “I love you.”

Remus hummed and the air stilled for a moment. Remus’ shoulders shuddered and Sirius thought his exhale could’ve sounded like a sob. “I’m so—sorry, Sirius.”

“You don’t need to be, love.” Sirius’ heart felt like it was breaking for how broken Remus sounded. He had never sounded this vulnerable before. _Never_. Not in Barcelona, not on the plane, not in Sirius’ tattoo room, in the smoking area of Heaven, in the moonlit slants of their bedroom, naked and wound with each other. Sirius kissed his temple again and wished he was better with words. “You don’t need to be sorry. You did _nothing_ wrong.”

“I—I don’t know how he found us. I don’t—”

“We’ll figure it out, everything will be okay. I won’t let anything happen.”

Remus fell silent for a moment, nodding slowly as if he were still processing Sirius’ words, his amber eyes cool and glassy, tear-fogged to stare unseeing into the middle-distance. Sirius stayed, his arm tight around Remus’ shoulders, grounding him, pulling him adrift on their ocean, floating together with their fingers linked.

“He’s still—” Remus sighed. “They didn’t get him, did they?”

Sirius pressed his lips together. _You tell him I can always find him_. “No. They didn’t. But they will.”

“You don’t know that…” Remus’ voice turned shorn and quiet again and he turned his head to press his mouth against Sirius’ shoulder. “You don’t know what he’s like.”

“No, I don’t Moons. I won’t pretend to know… but I know I’ll be with you whenever you need me… okay?”

“You don’t have to—”

“No. But I want to because I love you, and I think seeing you like this is _literally_ killing me for how much I hurt right now so I can’t imagine how much you hurt and I want to take it all away from you and hold it myself so you can be okay and I don’t… don’t really recall ever wanting that for _anyone_ before, but I do for you.” Sirius stared into the middle distance, eyes flickering over their bathroom, their toothbrushes on the shelf next to James and Lily’s. Remus’ favourite shaving balm, Sirius’ particular brand of floss, their shared hairbrush neither of them really used; in the shower, their favourite lemongrass and lime shower gel, Sirius’—and Lily’s—raspberry scented conditioner. Sirius had never been so intertwined with another person before.

Sure, he had loved James since before he could understand the meaning of the word, was half-sure he was having some kind of seizure for how wonderful it felt to be near someone so accepting when they were in school. They shared the exact same space, the same frame of mind, moved, thought, breathed as a single unit capable of subsisting as two halves. He loved Lily like a sister and worshipped her like a deity, grateful every day for her presence in his life. He loved Regulus, too, in some sense of the word, in the singular way his Black blood was useful, reminded of their childhoods together learning to move and live in a hostile world, tiny, clammy hands grasping for each other.

But he loved Remus like he had loved _nothing_ in life. He wanted to give Remus the whole damn world on a platter and erase everything that might even _breathe_ to upset him.

Beside him, Remus shifted, squeezed his fingers within Sirius’ and leant up to kiss him on the lips. It was the first time their lips had met for hours, since Sirius had kissed him goodbye before he went across to the cafe, before Greyback had appeared. Remus’ kisses tasted like everything Sirius loved in the world; menthol cigarettes, caramel donuts, good whisky, Remus’ toothpaste. They tasted like acceptance and love and the beautiful way they could come together as two halves of a whole and drift together, the salt of the ocean spray on their lips like kisses.

“I love you, Sirius Black,” Remus murmured into their kisses, salt-spray, toothpaste, aching pain that tasted like sour sweets. “I love you.”

Sirius smiled and tipped his forehead against Remus’, heedless of the pain that blossomed at the bridge of his nose. “I love you. Whatever you need, whatever you want to do or not do, that’s okay. It’s all okay, Remus.”

Remus nodded, staying there, pressed against Sirius, his hands braced on Sirius’ shoulders, his forehead pressed against Sirius’, his breath—soft with the residual taste of cigarette smoke—against Sirius’ mouth.

Sirius didn’t know how long it had been when James tapped on the bathroom door. “I’ve made tea out here for you both… you want it in there, or…?”

Remus shifted and let his head drop to Sirius’ shoulder, carefully pressing his mouth into Sirius’ collarbone, avoiding the bruises around his throat. Sirius looked to Remus for whether James could come in. Remus cleared his throat. “Come in, Prongs,” he muttered into Sirius’ skin where his shirt was still damp with tears.

James nudged the door open and stepped through, peering first at Sirius—eyes rimmed red, bruised and fatigued, his arms wound tight around Remus’ shoulders—then at Remus—face buried into Sirius’ shoulders like a child pretending at hide and seek (if he couldn’t see them, they couldn’t see him), hair mussed, curled into Sirius in a way James had probably never seen before. “Tea.” He set them down on the bathroom counter and turned to give Sirius a look that spoke across their years together _—alright?_

Sirius lifted his shoulder in response— _I don’t know_ —and James nodded. He looked tired.

“Prongs,” Remus said, turning a little so he could address James but not quite looking at him properly. His fingers dug tight into Sirius’ shirt and he pressed closer, seeking comfort that Sirius was only too desperate to give him. “I understand if… if you two don’t want me at the shop for a while… you know. I’m a fucking—fucking liability.”

James’ brow furrowed as he stepped closer and squatted down before them. “Remus.” Not Moony. James was serious like this, frowning, straight spine, voice low. “Don’t be _fucking_ stupid.”

Sirius tightened his arm around Remus’ shoulders where he was quivering a little. Remus straightened a little, staying pressed against Sirius’ side, their fingers laced together, white-knuckled, adrift in their ocean, a sea of it, a storm, but James holding a hand out to them, to shore them up.

James didn’t look away from Remus’ face. “We’re Marauder Ink, Remus, like I always say. You are not going anywhere and we will all do _whatever_ we need to make sure you are okay. Understand?”

Remus nodded. “Thank you.”

Sirius squeezed their fingers together. “Whatever you need Moony.”

James put a hand on Remus’ knee and squeezed too. “We’re here.” He breathed a sigh and looked to Sirius, who smiled softly, as much as he could muster a smile. Then he stood up and stepped back. “Whatever both of you need, okay?”

James left the bathroom, pulling the door shut behind him. Remus watched him go before he sank back into Sirius’ arms, the two of them still perched on the edge of the bathtub. Sirius rubbed a thumb along the line of Remus’ shoulder, feeling the tension there arcing up to his neck and down his back.

“Hey, shall I run you a bath? Lily still has that lavender and cedar bath oil.” Sirius smiled into Remus’ hair, hand gliding over his upper arm and the outer edge of his shoulder, staying far away from the full moon atop his spine.

“Mm… will you stay with me?” Remus’ arms were still fastened tight around Sirius, their fingers squeezed together.

“Of course. Until the end, Moony. We’re here for the long run.” Sirius leant back, only detaching himself as little as possible from Remus to turn on the taps, drop the bath plug and pour in a slug of Lily’s bath oil—Sirius was sure she wouldn’t miss it.

Remus smiled and it rang sad with the way it pulled at the corner of his eyes, twitched at his chin. “You say that. Now you know…”

Sirius straightened and placed his free hand on Remus’ cheek, stroking across the bridge of his nose, the high point of his cheek, around to the tail of his eyebrow. “Now I know it even more. Now I know it’s you and me above goddamn everything else, Remus. I’m not going _anywhere_.”

“I love you.” Remus tilted his head into Sirius’ palm and seemed to relax a fraction, his jaw only clenching slightly now, the tension softening across his brow.

“Love you too, Moony.”

They stayed there until the bath was full, the steam swirling around them, lavender and cedar, warm and soothing. Sirius peeled away as carefully as he could, keeping his hands on Remus’ arms, guiding him to sit up so Sirius could divest him of his clothes.

 _Christ, you’re beautiful_ , Sirius thought as Remus stood to shuck off his jeans and Sirius held his hands to keep him upright, shaky and unsure, his foundations ripped clean from beneath him, in the earthquake zone, the meeting of two tectonic plates to rattle his life to pieces. _You’re so fucking beautiful and I would cross rivers and volcanoes and deserts and hurricanes for you, fucking_ ** _oceans_** _for you, Remus, whatever you need, you. Always you. Just you._

Remus sank into the bath with a soft sigh that Sirius felt all the way to his toes. His eyes fluttered shut and he looked _so_ in pain, so strangely lonely, that Sirius knelt next to him and pressed a hand to Remus’ sternum. Remus reached up and laced their fingers, sinking further into the bath so the water lapped at the line of his jaw and enveloped him in the water.

Sirius could just lie there and watch him for hours, watch the little flickers of tension and emotion over his face. With his other hand Sirius reached over and gently smoothed the hair away from Remus’ face, tender fingertips brushing over his face. “What can I do, Moony? What do you need?” Every fibre of Sirius’ being wanted— _needed_ —to help.

Remus smiled softly and squeezed their fingers. “Just need you here, Pads. Just you.”

Sirius leant over and kissed Remus on the forehead. “I’m not going anywhere. Hell hounds couldn’t drag me from you, Moony.”

Remus laughed then, just a soft little snicker of laughter creasing the corners of his mouth, and Sirius’ heart soared. He stayed there, mouth pressed to Remus’ forehead, feeling the other man’s breath hit his shoulder. Then Remus hummed softly and squeezed their fingers again. “If—if we see him again, _please_ don’t start with him… I don’t want anything to happen to you and I’m scared of him hurting you, Sirius. If he _really_ hurt you.”

“I won’t…” Sirius smiled, pressing little kisses over the arch of Remus’ brow to try and convey just how fucking much he was in love. “I was just surprised earlier… we all were. I’ll stay with you.”

Remus’ free hand came up from the water, his thumb brushing over the swell of purple-yellow blotches over Sirius’ neck, leaving little smudges of warmth, lavender and cedar. “I love your throat… and now he has it.”

Sirius pressed his eyes shut as if that would help him weather the torment of the vulnerability in Remus’ voice. “No he doesn’t, love. It’s still yours. All of me’s yours. Not his. He’s not having any of either of us. He doesn’t have you, he won’t ever have you and he won’t ever have any bit of me either. I won’t let him.”

“Yeah…” Remus’ fingers wound a path up the tendons of Sirius’ neck to thread into the hair at the nape. His fingers felt at home there, winding them together, just tugging softly enough for it to prickle across Sirius’ scalp and send his eyelids fluttering with satisfaction. “I’ll try, Pads.” Remus swallowed again, eyes closing. “I trust you, Padfoot. So fucking much.”

Sirius’ fingers pressed into Remus’ sternum, feeling his heart thundering. “I’ve got you. You do what you can, Moons. You do your best and I’ll do the rest.”

Remus smiled. “That rhymed.”

“Poet and I didn’t know it, me.”

“Get in here with me, will you?” Remus tugged softly on their hands, pulling Sirius into him.

“Is there ro—”

“Shut up and get in here. I want you in here.” He cracked an eye open and bit at his lip ring. “Just want you with me.”

“Okay,” Sirius said. He couldn’t refuse that, could he? “Let me get our tea…”

Sirius set their mugs on the corner of the bath and quickly shed his clothes. He caught sight of his profile in the mirror, the cacophony of colours at his throat and a bloom of it beneath his diaphragm, that frighteningly accurate punch from Greyback that knocked the wind from him. There were a few dissolvable stitches in a cut above his eyebrow, and his knuckles were bruised and bloodied but it was all okay so long as Remus was here.

Remus tilted his head to the side to watch Sirius undress with a muzzy smile, but it faded when Sirius straightened up from pulling off his socks. “Padfoot…”

“Don’t, Moons. I did what I did,” Sirius said as he stepped into the other end of the bath and Remus drew his feet up. Sirius sank into the bath. It was warm and soothing but the hot water stung his stomach and his hands. He slid his feet to one side of Remus’ thighs and pulled the other man’s feet into his lap. Remus simply sighed softly and let his eyes flutter shut again.

Sirius rubbed his thumb over the arch of Remus’ foot, ignoring the swell of pain in his knuckles. He could’ve lain there for hours and hours, just staring at Remus’ beautiful face, the planes of it so soft through the steam. “We should have a couples costume, for Halloween.”

“Mmm?” Remus’ left eyebrow lifted slightly. “I thought you and James had costumes already.”

“We do, but I can change. If you want to go together.” Sirius leant over and passed Remus his tea, holding his wrist for a moment for how shaky the other man was.

“We’ll see. A couples costume sounds nice.” Remus caught his wrist and pressed a kiss to his palm and Sirius sank into it, curling his fingers to stroke over Remus’ cheekbone.

“It does, doesn’t it?” Sirius stayed sat forward, watching Remus’ eyes flutter shut.

They stayed until the water grew cool around them, Sirius’ hands smoothing long strokes over Remus’ feet and calves, Remus with his eyes shut, chest rising and falling in tremulous little shudders.

“C’mon, Moons,” Sirius said, standing up and slinging a towel around his waist. He held his hands out to Remus and helped him to stand up and dry off roughly before securing the towel around his waist too, Sirius’ palms sliding in affectionate passes over his skin. “To bed?”

Remus just nodded, his brows drawn close together. “Please.”

Sirius lead him through to the bedroom, nudging the door open, Remus’ arm around his shoulders. He didn’t spare a glance through to the living room, not caring for now where James or Lily were because Remus was the important thing. Depositing Remus on the edge of the bed, Sirius pulled on his own pyjama bottoms and helped Remus into his, trying not to crumble at the way Remus’ legs were shaking just a little.

“Want a shirt, Moons?” Sirius bit his lip, watching Remus in the lamplight from outside their window, the moon in slats over the bedroom. Sirius pressed a hand through Remus’ hair, watching him tilt into it.

Remus’ left shoulder was twitching a little, and Sirius recognised the motion that meant the moon scar between his shoulders was itching like mad. “No, thanks Pads…” With a sigh, Remus laid back against the bed and stretched out. Sirius moved with him, leaning over the bed and running soft fingertips over the scarification at his diaphragm.

“Stay with me,” Remus breathed, his fingers curling around Sirius’ wrist.

“Here, love. Right here,” Sirius murmured, his thumb rubbing in crescents over Remus’ skin.

“Thank you.”

Remus was quiet for a moment, his eyes flickering beneath their lids. “You’re wonderful, you know?” Sirius hummed to show he was listening, not sure for a moment if he could speak. “You… you’re always just what I need. Don’t know what I’d do without you, Sirius.”

Sirius smiled, his bottom lip twitching. “You don’t need to know. I’m here, Moons, always.” Sirius ran fingertips over Remus’ forehead and up through his hair. “Sleep, love, I’ve got you.”

Remus sank back into the bed and Sirius watched him for the longest time, the light flickering over them both, passing cars and buses, the streetlights, the moon shifting behind clouds. Remus looked so vulnerable in the light like this, his eyes fluttering shut, long, long limbs splayed out over their bed. God, Sirius loved him more than he’d ever loved anything in his life, how had he managed that? How had Sirius Black been allowed to love someone like this? So fully, wholly, like nothing else was important. Remus was asleep, by the looks of it, his chest rising and falling deeper and deeper, his eyelids flickering. He was asleep. He was safe.

Sirius was _so_ tired but he couldn’t rest, not yet. He slipped off the bed to stand up, feeling too trapped, too closed in, and his knees gave out in one fell swoop, the adrenaline of the day crashing over him and finally sinking away now Remus was safely in bed. He grasped at the bedpost and shuddered a great breath, his eyes fluttering. Fucking Christ, his brain was whirring with emptiness like he could think of nothing but _everything_ was pushing at the edges of his consciousness. He felt as if he needed to do everything at once. He needed to go and speak to James, make sure he and Lily were okay, he needed to find out what was happening at the shop, what else James knew about the police investigation, how they were going to carry on, whether James had spoken to Kingsley.

He needed, he needed, he needed… Sirius let his knees sink down onto the carpet and pressed his hands over his face, in one smooth motion over his eyes, pressing, pressing, through his hair, raking with his nails. Again and again, over the bruising blooming beneath his left eye and over his nose, up through his hair, down the back of his neck, tugging, back up over his face, pressing pressing over his eyes, through his hair, pulling, clenching into fists. Then his hands were wet with tears and Sirius was crying without realising, just crying and crying because he didn’t know how else to deal with all of this emotion.

Greyback was still out there and ready to lunge at them whenever his sick, twisted little mind told him to. How was Remus meant to heal, how was he meant to move on and get on with life? And what, just what the hell was Sirius meant to do? This was what Remus meant all those months ago in Sirius’ room saying _I can’t be the stability you need_. This was it, wasn’t it? Sirius couldn’t be stable now, but he _had_ to be, for Remus. He had to push aside his fear, fear of Greyback, fear of this all being ruined, the fear of Orion and the fire poker that just simmered at the edges of his brain whenever his heart-rate soared and Walburga was there ready to say _you’re such a fucking disappointment._

No. _No_. Sirius needed to be strong enough. For Remus. With a shuddering breath Sirius pulled his hands away from his face and wiped the tears away on his arm. He just had to keep going. For Remus. He turned and crawled up into the bed, sliding under the covers and pulling them up over Remus’ form. For now perhaps, he could sleep, curled up next to Remus, grateful for their togetherness, grateful for their ocean, floating and drifting.

After a moment, Remus shifted, rolling onto his side, moving closer in search of comfort but facing away from Sirius. _Away from Sirius_. Sirius tucked himself closer, pressing his knees to the backs of Remus’, pressing his stomach against Remus’ back, his mouth against Remus’ shoulder, Remus’ _bare_ shoulder. Remus moved closer, rocking back into Sirius’ arm around his waist, Sirius’ body against his, sturdy and comforting.

Gently, oh so gently, Sirius kissed the neat scarred edge of Remus’ moon scar, breathing out in a sudden rush of warmth over Remus’ shoulder. Remus’ fingers laced with his, half-conscious in his sleep but still looking for Sirius.

Adrift, together.

Sleep now, Sirius thought, his eyes drifting shut, figure everything else out tomorrow. For Remus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, please check out @littlebitellie's drawings of [Remus](https://littlebitellie.tumblr.com/post/184386604896/marauder-ink-remus-this-fic-is-something-else) and [Sirius](https://littlebitellie.tumblr.com/post/184663333941/marauder-ink-sirius-just-completing-the-set) if you haven't seen them on Tumblr already, they are so so stunning, and _exactly_ how I picture the boys.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two Wednesday updates in a row?? you betcha! Thank you so much to Purplechimera for the beta, siriuslywritten for the cheerleading and ideas, and to _you_ , my love, for reading!

 

_The shop is in tatters, broken glass and shards of furniture strewn all over the hardwood floor. Sirius stands at the front door, staring, with heart thumping, thumping, thumping, across the room where Greyback has cornered Remus. Remus looks sixteen, looks wide-eyed and frightened, looks to Sirius to save him but Sirius’ feet are stuck fast to the floor and he can’t move, can just watch as Greyback moves closer, closer. Remus is speaking, perhaps, to Sirius, reaching for him but Sirius can’t hear it. He only hears the crows, like a cruel mockery of speech, swirling above him on fetid air. Behind him the shop door opens and the scent of wood polish and expensive aftershave and coals from the fire hits him a moment before the fire poker does._

_The first smack of it sends Sirius stumbling forwards, grasping onto what’s left of the sofa. Remus is watching him, just staring at Sirius as Greyback presses closer and his hand comes up to Remus’ throat. Sirius tries to pitch forward, to scream, but he can’t and the fire poker to the back of the thighs sends him crashing onto his hands and knees. No, no no, he has to get to Remus, he has to, for Remus, for Remus. Sirius tries to crawl but the wooden floor splinters under his hands and wedges in the tips of his fingers and Orion bares down on him with another smack of the fire poker right across his back. Again, and again, and Greyback is laughing and Sirius’ vision turns blurry but he knows, somehow just knows, that Remus is staring at him, just staring and reaching for him, reaching like Sirius will pull him adrift but Sirius can’t reach him a—smack. Smack. Smack!_

Sirius woke to phantom pain along his back and immediately sat upright, gasping great lungfuls of air as soon as he realised he _wasn’t_ in the shop and Greyback nor Orion were there and Remus was aslee—Remus was awake. The dim London light—it must be very early—pooled across his face, eyes open, staring at Sirius.

“Padfoot…”

“Hey,” Sirius breathed, shaky, his thighs aching, trying to push away the residual hurt.

Remus’ voice was croaky. “Are you okay?”

“Are _you_ okay? I dreamed you weren’t... I dreamed you—” Sirius stretched up to press a kiss to Remus’ jaw, his cheek when Remus turned into him, his mouth when he turned more— “Are you okay?”

“Can’t sleep…” Remus’ eyes flickered around the room, bone-tired but unable to switch off. “Heard a noise and I—” He huffed a humourless laugh and shifted, sitting up a little— “didn’t want to sleep, in case…”

Sirius lifted a hand to press over his face and scrape a swath of hair back from his forehead. His fingers were shaking so much they tangled in his hair and he winced. “It’s—it won’t be him. He doesn’t know where we are.”

Remus stared at the window. The street below was starting to come alive, people coming back from night shifts, venturing out for early mornings. Every noise made Remus tense a little further. “If… If he can find the shop… he can find us here…”

“He won’t, Moons. Don’t… don’t think about that right now.” Sirius crawled closer on shaky limbs, body aching and revolting against the terrors of his memories, the image of Greyback with Remus by the throat in relief behind his eyelids. Fucking hell, he would make sure that would never happen. Hell would freeze over before Greyback got a finger on Remus, he would make certain of it. With shaky fingers, tremors all the way up to Sirius’ shoulder where he could still feel the strike of the poker, Sirius reached out to Remus’ arm, the plane of his bicep intersecting with his still-bare chest. Reaching out for contact always felt so hard in these liminal moments between nightmares and waking, so sure that every touch would come with pain. But Remus was only warmth, and, Sirius realised, he was shaking too.

“I’m t-trying,” Remus said through gritted teeth, but his words held no bite.

“Remus.” Sirius pressed his fingers into Remus’ arm for stability, moving closer, next to his lap until—if—Remus wanted to pull him closer. “I’m here.” Teeth chattering, half-conscious with residual fear, phantom pain, but _here_ , as here as he could be, hoping it would be enough.

Remus’ amber eyes flickered over Sirius’ face and his mouth quirked as if he were biting the inside of his cheek, or trying not to cry. “Jesus… Sirius I’m so sorry… I’m not— I’m _trying_ , your nightmare… I just—”

“Rem—” Sirius shook his head, inky black waterfalls over his shoulders, he hadn’t tied his hair up— “Kiss me.”

That was something they could both do. Remus pitched forward and pressed a kiss to Sirius’ mouth, soft and gentle, inquisitive, _shy_ almost but painfully, frighteningly vulnerable. It was a kiss, nothing more, no expectations of anything else but a kiss, but the solace of them being together.

Sirius pressed up, pressed closer, coaxing Remus’ mouth against his in soft, slick, indolent passes, little puffs of breath, parting, pressing, parting, breathing, needing, wanting, holding. Sirius had never sought out anything after a nightmare, but both of them needed this, both of them needed to know the other was there, alive and present, loving and wanting. Sirius pulled back a moment, gasping, still reeling from sensation, still shaking and smelling coals from the fire and expensive aftershave. Remus’ eyes flickered open, so bright and amber, the scar across his nose catching what little light was left in the room.

“C’mere, c’mere,” Remus breathed, touching tentative fingers to Sirius’ waist. Even in the midst of his own fucking terrors Remus could still remember Sirius wasn’t very good with physical contact in times like these, but right now he wanted it. He needed it, for both of them, to ground Remus and prove to him that he was safe and loved here. Sirius’ heart ached and shuddered in his ribcage— _fuck,_ I love him, Sirius thought. _This_ is what it feels like.

Sirius climbed into Remus’ lap and tangled both hands in his hair, pulling him in for another soft kiss, the taste of it sharp on his lips, the taste of nightmares and residual pain, love peeking at the edges, pushing away all the darkness, slowly, slowly. The press of Remus’ lips, the cool tang of his lip ring, so inherently Remus, the swipe of his tongue, the stud there too warm and slick. Remus’ fingers stroking careful passes up and down Sirius’ bare arms, tentative and tender, the press of his skilled fingers over tattooed skin, over portraits and roses, stags and lilies, his thumb brushing over Sirius’ pulse.

Remus pulled back, panting softly, his head dropping back against the headboard, his hands on Sirius’ shoulders to pull him closer, his breath on Sirius’ lips. Sirius followed him, settling into Remus’ lap, fingers tangled in auburn curls. The streetlights outside were cutting between them, warm orange but empty, and Sirius shifted closer still to watch them play across Remus’ features.

They kissed and kissed, not needing words, not needing anything else but each other’s presence, until the sun started to rise outside. Gradually sinking back into the bed, into their blankets and the warmth of each other’s bodies, kissing already kiss-bitten lips, just being _present_. Remus’ head slipped onto Sirius’ shoulder, his breath in warm clouds over Sirius’ collarbone, Sirius’ hands in his hair, stroking softly.

“I’ve got you,” Sirius breathed into auburn curls, when he was sure Remus had fallen asleep again, exhausted, curled into Sirius’ body. And somehow, still, Remus had Sirius too. Beneath everything Remus still remembered little things of what Sirius needed after a nightmare. It wasn’t perfect—Christ, he wasn’t expecting it to be with the events of the last twenty-four hours—but it was enough for them both.

Sirius awoke to the buzzing of his phone and fumbled in half-sight on the bedside table with his mouth still pressed into Remus’ hair, the comforting rise-fall, up-down of his chest against Sirius’.

_Making bacon sarnies, enough for us all. Spoken to Kingsley too. Love you both._

Typical James; bacon, tea, and love could fix everything. It hadn’t done them so bad so far, had it?

“Moons?” Sirius whispered, carding hands through Remus’ hair and kissing his forehead.

“Mmm?” Remus shifted for a moment, and then, as if remembering where he was, what had happened, what _could_ happen, jolted awake and heaved a great breath. “Pads. What’s—what’s wrong?”

“No, nothing, nothing love, nothing.” Sirius let Remus sit up, knowing how trapped he might feel. “It’s just morning… Prongs is making bacon sandwiches. Wanted to know if we wanted any.”

“Oh,” Remus breathed, tension shuddering out of him, still sat upright, knees bent towards his chest like some semblance of emotional armour. “Sorry…” His moon scar practically shone in the daylight, all silvered and old.

Sirius tilted his head and watched the combination of scar tissue and golden skin slip and shift with each of Remus’ breaths. _It’s beautiful_ , he thought, itching to reach out and touch it. He nearly did, his finger skating up over Remus’ shoulder blade, marvelling at the way Remus didn’t shrink away, just let him touch, press his thumb into the hollow beneath Remus’ collarbone. “Breakfast?”

“‘M not hungry, I don’t think…”

“I know, but eating something will help, if you can.” Sirius shifted forward onto his knees and wrapped his arms around Remus’ shoulders, careful not to let his chest press against Remus’ back. Until Remus breathed a sigh and sank back into Sirius’ arms, let them press together, let the black dog at Sirius’ sternum touch that full moon, Sirius’ breath skating across the crescents that adorned one side. Sirius shuddered and shivered at the weight of that action, the way Remus _let him_. His voice sounded croaky as he forced it past his lips. “I love you.”

Remus gripped Sirius’ forearm, his thumb pressing over the lilies there, and his eyes fluttered shut. “I love you too. So—so much Sirius.”

Sirius pressed a kiss to the nape of Remus’ neck, where the petals of the lotus lay, and stayed there for a long time, the two of them pressed together, his nose in Remus’ hair, ignoring the sharding pain through his skull.

Remus moved forward first, shifting his weight to the edge of the bed to stand up. Sirius allowed himself a moment to watch before it became painful. Remus usually moved with such grace, all long limbs and a sort of hunter-esque surety that balanced out Sirius’ inherent grace and casual comfort with his body. But now, in the Saturday morning light, unflattering against the terrors of the day before, Remus was shaky and unsure, unbalanced, foundations ripped clean apart.

Sirius stood to catch him under the arm, forgetting for a moment how unbalanced he was too. They pitched together, Remus’ arm around Sirius’ shoulders, Sirius’ arm around Remus’ waist, stumbling a little until they caught themselves, holding each other.

“What a fucking pair,” Sirius hummed, pressing a kiss to Remus’ shoulder.

Remus huffed out a little laugh and squeezed Sirius tight.

In the living room, dressed in comfy clothes, Remus sank into the sofa where Lily put her arms around him and gave him a tight hug. Sirius crossed to the kitchen to find James frying bacon. He took the pan from the heat as soon as Sirius appeared in the doorway and crossed to envelope him into an embrace.

“You alright? Moony okay?” James muttered into Sirius’ hair, hugging him tightly.

“Mm, not sure,” Sirius whispered back, wrapping his arms tight around his oldest friend, leaning into him, drawing on James Potter’s unfailing stability. “We slept, a little.”

“Yeah.” James’ glasses were pressing awkwardly into the side of Sirius’ head but neither of them cared. “We’re here. We don’t need to do anything this weekend. Monday Peter says he’ll be able to get someone in to fix everything up.” James pulled back and held Sirius by the shoulders. “Tea?”

“Please.”

James puttered about, making tea and frying bacon. James was only capable of multitasking in the kitchen, never out of it. “I spoke to Kingsley too. Obviously he’s—” James glanced through to the living room and lowered his voice— “he’s wanted for not turning up to court ten years ago… Kingsley says if we see him then we phone the cops right away. He also said he’d help you out with the assault charges, if they come to anything.”

Sirius swallowed thickly and sipped at the tea James placed on the counter next to him. He didn’t want to think about the assault, else he’d replay it all wishing he’d killed Greyback instead. He just needed to concentrate on Remus right now. “Right,” he croaked.

“He said there was a thing called _mitigating circumstances,_ which, from what I understand, basically means Greyback deserved it because he was a fucking cunt.”

Sirius’ eyebrows shot up. James didn’t swear like that, ever, but it was so clear to see the thunderstorm that passed over his face. Sirius knew then that he and Remus were in good hands. He could look after Remus and knew that James and Lily were here in turn to look after him. “Yeah,” Sirius said, sipping his tea, “yeah.”

James paused buttering a slice of bread for sandwiches and looked up. His glasses were smudged and Sirius was eternally grateful for him all of a sudden. “Want me to call Sarah’s office, see if she can move your appointment from next week to Monday or Tuesday this week? Would be good to see her.”

“That would be good… wouldn’t it?” Sirius swallowed again and sipped his tea. He was so tired. “Could you?”

James nodded curtly as he set back to finishing tea for Lily and Remus, and putting together sandwiches. After a moment watching him Sirius set his tea down and fetched the milk from the fridge, determined to try and do something useful. Making tea was the easiest thing to do right now.

“Prongs?” Sirius murmured as he put the milk back. James hummed. “I don’t know how to help Moony.”

James sighed and turned the stove off. “I don’t have a fucking clue, Pads… Same as you seeing Walburga or Orion, I suppose. But… _shit_ , I don’t know, worse but easier?”

“Yeah.”

“Just be there for him, I reckon. And know that I’m here for you. You don’t need to worry about anything but being there for Remus… letting him scream or cry or sit in silence whilst you pet his hair or something, I don’t know.”

“What about Tuesday, going back to the shop?”

James shrugged one shoulder and balanced their sandwich plates on his arm. “Think about that on Monday night. That’s two days away just now.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” Sirius picked up the remaining sandwich and two mugs of tea. “Thank you, Prongs.”

James smiled and went into the living room, Sirius on his heels. Remus was curled at the end of the sofa, his head on the armrest. Lily’s hand was on his ankle, pressing enough to say, _I’m here, you’re safe_ , whilst her other hand held the remote, flicking through the television. Sirius sat on the edge of the sofa next to Remus, who blinked a moment before his eyes focussed on Sirius. He held out his bacon sandwich and set their tea on the coffee table. Remus sat up, his limbs still tucking around Sirius’ like the lack of distance between them was the only thing keeping him upright. He set his head on Sirius’ shoulder whilst he chewed the corner of his sandwich and let Sirius pass him his tea and hold it for him when he shook too badly. Sirius was shaking too, of course, but Sirius’ tremors were the kind of low-level assault on his nervous system he’d been dealing with for years, whereas Remus had seemed so sure-footed and steady-fingered for so long.

James and Lily kept up a constant, quiet stream of chatter as Lily switched off the television and James broke out _A Day at the Races_ and let Freddie Mercury soothe them all. James set his cup down and ran a hand through his hair. “We could go see Mum and Dad, if you like?”

Sirius bit his lip and glanced to Remus. He wasn’t sure if he would be able to drive in his current state, nor would he want to be away from Remus during the drive.

Remus glances to Sirius then back to the empty plate on his lap. “I’m not sure I’m…” Remus sighed and tugged at his lip ring with his fingertips, chasing the pull of it with his tongue. His left shoulder was twitching a little as his all-but whispered, “I don’t want him to follow us.”

Sirius pressed his hand into Remus’ thigh where it was resting. _He won’t_ , Sirius wanted to say, but they didn’t know that. If he said it it would feel too much like a promise, too much like making light of Remus’ worries.

Lily smiled as _The Millionaire Waltz_ started. “It’s okay, we’ll stay here. Rent a movie off of the tele or something, hey?”

“Sounds good Lils,” Sirius responded, shooting his sister-in-law a grateful smile. He shifted back onto the sofa and scooted up a little to let Remus sink into him. Sirius pressed his mouth into Remus’ hair, marvelling at how well Remus was allowing himself to be supported. Sirius had been _so_ worried when he came home to Remus locked in the bathroom that he had lost him, that Remus would stay behind that door and pull away and all the closeness they had worked upon for the last three months would be scattered away, lost like relics of another time. But Remus let him in, let Sirius hold him, care for him. Sirius just hoped what he was doing would be enough.

 

On Saturday night they slept a little, on the sofa in the living room where they dozed off during the new _Hellboy_ remake and neither Lily or James had the heart to move them. Sirius stirred around 2am to the white noise of the record player and the sight of the deadbolt across the front door. On his other side the living room window, with ashtrays and lighters undisturbed across the sill, let in a small amount of dim light. Remus was sleeping fitfully against his chest, his mouth twitching, his jaw flexing. Sirius tightened his arm around Remus’ shoulders. Nothing would happen.

On Sunday night they stayed awake all night, Remus’ shaking hand pressed between Sirius’ shaking hands, after they had heard the beginnings of a fight in the stairwell. It had just been a neighbour, but it had unnerved them both. They had played FIFA during the day, listened to records and eaten some of Lily’s fantastic biscuits, but all the positives seemed to have been whisked away on the wings of the nighttime. Sirius watched every shift of the shadows in the living room, sleeping with the door open just in case. He strained his ears for the sound of their lock clicking open and Remus shot up from dozing off at the sound of Lily getting up to go to the loo in the middle of the night.

On Monday morning Sirius showered as quickly as he could stand and pulled on clean clothes for the first time. Remus lay on their bed, watching the play of light over the ceiling and occasionally letting his amber eyes drift over to Sirius.

“I’ll only be two hours, max, okay? Half an hour there and back, an hour for my appointment,” Sirius said for the fifth time that morning, pushing persistent sleep from his eyelashes. Remus nodded and nipped at his already bitten-raw nail-beds. “And I’ll keep my phone on the whole time. Sarah will understand. And Prongs and Lils will be here. Okay?” He crossed the room and bent over the bed to kiss Remus.

“Okay,” Remus murmured into Sirius’ lips. “Be careful. Be… _safe_ , please…”

Sirius nodded, hating the quiver in Remus’ voice. “Two hours and I’ll be right back here with you.”

Sirius lingered in the entryway of their flat until the Uber pulled up outside before running over to it. It felt strange, beyond strange, not to take the bike everywhere, but there was something in him that was terrified Greyback would be able to follow that easier. The flat was their safe space, and Sirius would do all he could not to jeopardise that.

At Sarah’s office, Sirius was seen straight away. James must’ve explained the situation to Sarah, who had apparently made a few exceptions for him.

“Sirius,” she said, piercing him with her honest gaze. “How are you?”

Sirius promptly burst into tears that didn’t stop for their whole hour together. Through hiccuping sobs Sirius explained how Remus’ abuser—he didn’t go into further detail than that, it wasn’t his to tell—had returned and how badly it had all gotten out of hand. Sarah handed him endless tissues and nodded and hummed when Sirius said his nightmares were worse whenever he did manage to sleep, but Remus was there now too and his parents were at the shop in his nightmares and they had never been there before. _It was normal_ , Sarah said, for separate traumas to compound. And it was a trauma for Sirius too, to see Remus like that, to see Greyback, to have acted like that.

Sarah told him in her endlessly honey-soft and kind voice that it was okay to feel as if he himself were regressing when trying to help Remus, because trauma was triggered by a lot of things. It was okay to allow themselves time and space to heal. It was all okay. It would take time but it would be okay. She also extended a metaphorical hand to Remus, suggesting it might be good for him to attend a few sessions with her, perhaps a shared one if it would make them both feel comfortable.

At the end she hugged him tightly and watched until he had gotten into the Uber waiting outside.

Sirius ran the stairs back up to their flat and slipped his key into the latch as softly as he could. When he stepped through, Remus was sat up on the sofa, a blanket strewn around his legs. He was wide-eyed with terror, but as soon as he saw it was Sirius he sank again and let the ghost of a smile flicker over his face. Sirius crossed and drew him into a tight hug, wondering how they would ever manage to be apart again.

 

The shop felt strangely empty without Remus.

 _I can’t do it, Sirius—I can’t. I’m sorry, I—_ he’d said to Sirius that morning. It had been okay, of course. They all understood. Lily had been working tirelessly over the weekend to contact all of clients with appointments this week with requests to reschedule wherever possible. There were a few clients coming from far away that Sirius nor James’ couldn’t reschedule. But Sirius had said he would either come back to the flat between clients, or FaceTime Remus. Lily leapt right into phone calls and emails, fielding a million questions whilst Sirius and James set up for clients. Sirius kept checking his phone, kept making sure it was on loud, making sure he hadn’t missed calls or texts.

Thankfully, tattooing held the same appeal as always. Tattooing allowed Sirius to fall into his trance-like state of otherworldliness. Vision quests still felt so potent, even years after Sirius started tattooing, allowing him to step out of his own body and into the liminal space of this ritual, imbuing someone else with his art, forever. Sirius firmly believed tattooing had saved his sanity on many occasions. Hopefully now was another entry in a long list.

Tuesday, despite being filled with nervousness, and shaking FaceTime calls with Remus in the gaps between clients, went by without a hitch. Sirius spent his downtime in the piercing room to feel closer to Remus, to smell the disinfectant and soap he smelt of throughout the day when they stole kisses and smiles between the chaos. The shop felt so empty. Tuesday night couldn’t come quick enough. The four got Domino’s delivery and James watched out the window to make sure no one else was around when the scooter pulled up.

By Thursday, Sirius was starting to think that Greyback didn’t know where they lived after all. Perhaps he had been caught by the police and they hadn’t told Remus. It seemed frighteningly unlikely, but it had been days. On Thursday afternoon Sirius finished early. He took the bike—after being convinced by Lily that it would be okay, and if he never got on the bike again he would hate himself for it—back to the flat and took the quickly-becoming-normal long look around as he parked up. No one in sight. The stairs in the stairwell two at a time, a knock at the door before unlocking it. Remus on the sofa, less frightened than that first day, but still terrified.

They had a cup of tea together before Sirius took a deep breath. “Come to Tesco with me? We can get something to cook tonight.” He didn’t say _it would be good for you to leave the flat,_ as much as it was true.

Remus chewed at his lip ring and his amber eyes darted above purplish circles. “Yeah, okay.”

Sirius had expected more resistance. “I’ll stay with you the whole way. We can get an Uber there and back instead of walking… Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Remus’ voice still quivered a little, but his shakes were getting better, and the tension was slowly, slowly dissipating out of his shoulders. Sirius leant over to press a kiss to his mouth and hummed softly when Remus relaxed into him.

The Uber to the supermarket was, frankly, terrifying, but Sirius thought they should try. They couldn’t spend their entire life in the flat, could they? Remus held Sirius’ hand in a vice-grip the whole time. Once inside the supermarket Remus carried the basket— _something to do with my hands, Pads_ , he’d said softly—and they chatted softly about _The Black Keys_ ’ new album. Remus had been spending a lot of time making new playlists and listening to new music. Sirius kept his hand on Remus’ lower back, like Remus did for him, like reassurance, like safety, like _I love you_.

At the check-out, Remus packs their bits and pieces—risotto rice, butternut squash, sage, focaccia, dessert—saying he needed to keep his hands busy again. Sirius understood. He hadn’t been able to pierce recently, and Sirius thought it would feel a lot like not being able to tattoo.

Sirius shivered. Glanced to the full-length windows behind Remus, back-lighting him like an angel. Remus shifted to the side to grab something from the conveyor belt, then—

At the window. Wild hair, feral eyes. A deep bruise on his jaw. Too sharp teeth.

Sirius’ stomach dropped to his feet, passing his debit card over for the payment. No, no no no, it couldn’t be. Not here, please, _please_ , not here. Remus was blissfully unaware, slowly packing things into their bag. Sirius stared with wide eyes at the window, at Fenrir Greyback leaning casually there, just over Remus’ shoulder. The window was between them but the perspective looked like Greyback could turn and sniff Remus’ hair. Sirius couldn’t _breathe_.

Greyback, _fuck,_ he was grinning, running the tip of his tongue over his yellow teeth. “He’s mine _,_ ” Greyback mouthed, clear as day for the movement of his snarling lips. He winked, fucking _winked_ , before turning and striding out of view.

Sirius’ knees buckled.

“Sir? Sir?” The cashier, bless her, she looked no older than twenty, was staring at him with wide blue eyes.

“Sorry,” Sirius choked out, gripping the edge of the check-out to stay upright. “Sorry.”

Remus frowned a moment before the colour drained from his face. His head whipped around as he looked at the window, amber eyes wide. He saw nothing out of the window, thank God, but looked back to Sirius, horror-stricken. “No… No—not here…”

The taxi ride home was terror-filled, Sirius pressing his phone too hard against his ear as he tried to describe exactly what Greyback had been wearing to the police officer on the other end of the phone. He couldn’t remember, everything was fuzzy. Everything except _he’s mine, he’s mine, he’s mine,_ replaying over and over in his head. Remus pressed against his other side and pressed his mouth into Sirius’ shoulder. Sirius could feel his jaw shaking.

When they got back to the flat Sirius dead-bolted the door and hugged Remus with shaking hands and Remus sobbed into his shoulder. Sirius’ mind was running a mile a minute.

“We have to leave.”

Remus’ eyes were red-rimmed when he pulled back from Sirius’ shoulder and he swayed on his feet a little before he whispered, “Where can we go?”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _another_ Wednesday update. The muse is well and truly here guys. As always, endless love to my boo Purplechimera for the beta. Thank you so much for reading, I love you all very much.

 

The sounds of Remus making tea should’ve been a familiar comfort, but they weren’t. It felt off, somehow, out of tune. The kettle rattled against the tap as Remus filled it because he was shaking so hard; the mugs banged down on the counter a little too hard because Remus couldn’t think straight. Sirius could _see_ the tension across Remus’ shoulders as he stood waiting for the kettle to boil. Tea was such a British solution. Your world falling apart? Make tea whilst your boyfriend makes frantic attempts to put it back together.

“James,” Sirius said into his phone as the other end of the line connected. James knew immediately there was something wrong; it felt like a code between them after a while—real names meant something was wrong. Sirius could practically see James sitting straighter on the other end of the line.

“What’s happened?” James replied instantly, and Sirius heard Lily in the background, questioning.

“Moony and I have to go somewhere, we have to do _something_.” Sirius ran a hand through his hair, hating how his voice was quivering, hating how Remus’ shoulders were shaking, how they were falling apart.

“ _What happened?_ Where are you? Are you _okay?_ ” James asked in quick succession.

“No, no, we’re not. Went to Tesco, thought—thought we could get out of the house but _he_ was there. Didn’t _do_ anything—” _he’s mine, he’s mine, he’s mine_ — “but he knew we were there, somehow.”

Remus fumbled with the teaspoon, once, twice, before he dropped it with a clatter and stooped to pick it up with a huff of frustration and a sniff of tears.

“Fucking _shit_ , Sirius. Did you call the police?” James said.

“Yeah. I don’t reckon they caught up to him though. We can’t— _I’m_ not letting him ruin this. We need to go somewhere. Can you and Lily handle work for a few days?”

“Yeah, fucking hell, of course we can. Mum and Dad have that cabin up near Aviemore. Phone her and ask—” James paused on the other end of the phone and Sirius heard Lily’s indistinct tones. “You need Lily to come home? I have a client I can’t cancel this late.”

“No, we’ll be okay. We’re home… door’s locked. I’ll phone Mum.”

“Right, right.” James sighed. “Be careful, both of you.”

“Yeah, see you Prongs.” Sirius hung up with another sigh and watched Remus for a moment—still tersely waiting for the kettle to boil, his fingers clenched white on the edge of the counter—before he dialled Effie.

She answered after a handful of rings. “Hello, dear.”

“Hi Mum,” Sirius said, clearing his throat.

“… Everything alright?”

Sirius rubbed a hand over his eyes. “Not really, no. But—” Sirius spoke quickly to try and cut her off— “I don’t really want to explain it right now. We’re not _hurt_. Jamie can explain later maybe. I have a favour to ask you.”

“I—” Euphemia blustered a little, not used to how abrupt Sirius was being. “Of course, what is it?”

“Are you and Dad using the cabin in Aviemore in the near future?”

“No, dear, we’re down here for the summer…” Euphemia said, confusion clear in her voice. Sirius puffed a breath as Remus set two mugs of tea on the kitchen table. The liquid sloshed over the sides of the mugs and onto the table for how much he was shaking. Sirius took his hand and squeezed. “Are you planning a weekend away?”

Sirius closed his eyes and sighed softly when Remus rubbed his thumb over Sirius’ knuckles in silent solidarity. “Not quite. Remus and I, we want to get away for a while. Think it’d be okay if we went there, tonight even?”

“Oh… of course, yes… I’ll, um, I’ll ask Kevin if he can swing by to make sure everything’s up to standard this afternoon, leave the key in the key-safe for you. He can go to the village shop, too, get you some essentials.”

“That would be brilliant, yes please…” Sirius lifted Remus’ hand to press a kiss to the back of it as Remus sipped his tea.

“Sirius, dear?” Euphemia said after a moment’s pause. “I don’t need to _worry_ about you, do I?”

Sirius’ heart broke again for the fiftieth time today. He didn’t _want_ to lie, but he didn’t want to get into all of this whole mess with Euphemia when the longer they stayed here the worse everything got. “No, Mum, we’re fine. Just… tough few days, is all.”

“Okay. Take care… give my love to everyone.”

“Bye Mum.” Sirius hung up and threw his phone down, swiftly snatching up his tea mug to take a scalding gulp. “Fuck.”

“I’m sorry, Pads… I—” Remus squeezed their fingers together.

“No, don’t fucking apologise, Moons. It’s not your fault, it’s all him. And—and I was the one who said we should go to Tesco.” Sirius took another gulp of his tea. “None of this is on you.”

Remus inclined his head, but didn’t say anything as Sirius picked his phone up again and searched for flights to Inverness, sending another text to James to keep him updated.

An hour later, Sirius and Remus had packed a bag each, booked flights that evening and transport for the other end. Euphemia had texted Sirius the phone number for Kevin, the neighbour in Aviemore who looked in on the cabin.

Sirius had drawn his feet up onto his chair, thighs against his chest, and Remus sat hunched over his long-cold mug of tea when James and Lily came home. James looked frazzled and Lily was hot on his heels.

“Fucking _Christ_ , are you both okay? What needs sorting?” James said, seizing Sirius into a bruising hug whilst Lily put the kettle back on.

“Not sure,” Sirius mumbled, only half-present for how exhausted he was feeling, as James crossed and hugged Remus tight. “Booked a flight, got a transfer at the other end…”

“Right. When do you need to leave? Packed everything?” James pulled out a chair and put his arm around Remus as Sirius ran a hand through his hair.

“Think so. Probably need to leave soon, was just… waiting for you two to get home I suppose.”

“Right. I’ll order an Uber. Call Mum later and explain everything.” James paused for a moment, thumbing his phone open. “Are you both okay?”

Sirius shrugged. “Not really, no.”

James looked to Remus, who bit his lip and then the nail-bed of his thumb for a moment before his amber eyes flickered up, first to Sirius, then to James. “No. I don’t… What if he finds us?”

“He won’t, not in Aviemore,” Lily said, setting a new mug of tea down in front of Remus. “That place is remote as all hell. Especially as you’re flying up there.”

“And if he comes here,” James said, “then he’s got another thing coming.”

Sirius reached across the table to take Remus’ hand as the other man flinched at the idea of Greyback turning up to their flat. At least that hadn’t happened yet. “C’mon,” Sirius said, squeezing his hand, “let’s get going.”

Remus nodded and stood, hand braced on the table as he did so. They ducked into their bedroom to retrieve their meagre bags, and when Sirius stepped back out into the living room he saw James and Lily in the doorway, Lily’s arms wrapped around her husband’s middle. From across the room Sirius could see James’ jaw pressed tight as Lily murmured something placating and encouraging into his cheek. Shit, Sirius had been so caught up in how terrified Remus must feel, how much that affected him, that he hadn’t stopped to think how this must be making James feel. James, who always wanted to make everything better for his friends, couldn’t fix any of this right now, and that must feel _shit_.

“Hey,” Sirius said, clearing his throat and setting his backpack down against the wall.

James smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of Lily’s head. “You’ll be careful, won’t you?”

Sirius rolled his eyes and crossed to wrap his arms around both of them. “Yes, Mum.”

James’ phone buzzed—a signal their Uber was outside—and Sirius and Remus left the flat, trying not to feel trepidation, trying not to feel like this would all go wrong. In the Uber, Sirius felt like he was holding his breath, waiting, waiting for something to go wrong. For it to turn into a horror movie and their driver be Greyback in disguise, or have him pull in front of them on some gnarling twist of a chopper motorbike. But the journey to the airport passed fairly quickly and Sirius found himself slowly, slowly releasing a breath.

Going through security, Remus set off the metal detector with a bored roll of his eyes. Sirius was reminded of Spain, only a few months ago but it felt like years, and how Remus had rolled his eyes again then too. It wasn’t his piercings though, Sirius realised as he stood to the side and waited for the staff to release his boyfriend, it was the metal plates in his leg and pelvis from the accident.

They waited in Departures, hands clasped together, not speaking but just holding each other, waiting. Remus seemed to calm exponentially as they crossed over the threshold past security though, as if he knew Greyback couldn’t get them now, as if it dawned on him that they were _safe_. With a long, weary exhalation, he sank against Sirius’ side and Sirius hooked an arm around his shoulders.

“I love you,” Sirius whispered into auburn hair. He thought back to months ago, how he’d wished so vehemently for Remus to be open with him, how he wished for them to be honest, with no walls. How he’d wished, stupidly, fucking foolishly, for them to be broken together. But that wasn’t what he’d wanted. He’d wanted closeness, but just had no idea how to get it. Sirius had got his fucking wish, hadn’t he? How short-sighted of him. True, he and Remus were together now and somehow in love, after all of it, but Sirius hated knowing how in pain Remus was, how broken he must’ve felt.

“I love you too,” Remus croaked, reaching up to lace their fingers together.

“Very much. More than anything, probably, actually,” Sirius continued, watching the screen in front of them as they waited to board the plane.

Remus chuckled humourlessly, his head tipped against Sirius’. “Not more than _anything_.”

“Mmm, more than lots of things then. Mexican food at least, and margaritas.”

“Margaritas?”

“Mhmm.”

Remus hummed, his weight reassuring against Sirius’ side, before he murmured, “I reckon you’re just above those chocolate cream donuts from across the road, for me.”

“Oh, you do love those though,” Sirius said, turning his face into Remus’ hair. He felt a grin bloom on his face, unable to resist the quip brewing at the tip of his tongue and its accompanying mental image. “Your face when you eat them looks a lot like your sex face, y’know.”

“Padfoot!” Remus lifted his head from Sirius’ shoulder, smiling but trying to look reproachful. “There are kids around.”

“They’re not in earshot, I checked. Besides, you know I adore your chocolate-donut face.”

“Oh gross! Don’t make that comparison again!”

Sirius snorted and burst into laughter, earning a glare from the businessman sat opposite them. “Moony! Eugh! You’re the dirty-minded one! I never even thought of that comparison, thank you very much!”

_All passengers for the 19:55 flight to Inverness…_

Remus stifled another snigger as the announcement filtered over the hall. Sirius stood and held a hand out for him—he’d always hold a hand out to Remus, _always_ —and they boarded the plane in comfortable silence. Sirius kept their fingers laced as the plane took off, both of them too tired for any real conversation, too wired, running on auto-pilot to try and gain as much distance from their terrors.

“What’s Effie and Monty’s cabin like?” Remus asked after the stewardess had come past for a second time. It was only a short flight, an hour and a half, short enough to blink and miss it, Sirius thought, if he were capable of sleeping right now.

Sirius traced a scar on Remus’ knuckle with his forefinger, forever admiring the look of their hands laced together, painted skin and silver-white scars. “Lovely. Quiet, in the middle of arse-nowhere. The roof has a big skylight, and when it’s not snowing you can lie in bed and look up at the stars.”

“Won’t be snowing up there right now, will it?” said Remus, his finger circling the _W_ on Sirius’ knuckle.

“Mm, doubt it. It’ll be warm still maybe. We can sit out on the deck and smoke maybe… It’s a tiny place, sofa in front of a wood-burner, kitchen in the corner, _big_ bed up in the eaves.”

Remus’ voice was barely a whisper as he settled against Sirius’ side. “Sounds nice.” He was silent long enough for Sirius to think he was done talking, except for the way the corner of his mouth quirked slightly. Sirius waited for him to speak. “Wish we were going there on better circumstances, Pads.”

Sirius sighed, the unfettered disappointment and frustration in Remus’ voice sharding through him. “Me too, Moons. Me too.” He pressed a kiss to Remus’ hair and watched as the other man lifted theirjoined hands and kissed Sirius’ knuckles, no longer bruised and split from the fight. “But,” Sirius said on a sigh, “when we get there, we can just curl up in front of the fire, drink some of Monty’s good whisky, and make rude words out of the Scrabble tiles, yeah?”

Remus chuckled and leant up to kiss Sirius on the lips, slow and tender. He pulled away just enough to murmur against Sirius’ lips. “You’re fucking wonderful, you know.”

“The best for you,” Sirius murmured back, closing the millimetres between them to kiss Remus again in chaste but tender kiss. Across the aisle Sirius heard a tut and rolled his eyes. _Well fine_ , he thought, _wasn’t going to kiss him properly but now I know you hate it, arsehole_ , grinning into Remus’ mouth and nipping gently at his lip ring before pulling back just enough to speak again. “Wanna see how uncomfortable we can make the homophobes?”

Remus’ grin was sharp and sly, bright enough to light up his whole face. “You bet.”

 

Remus relaxed infinitely as they landed in Inverness and found their taxi to Aviemore. Sirius was right about the weather, it was clear and dry, the sun just starting to set as they drove through the Highlands and the hills unfurled around them.

“It’s beautiful,” Remus whispered in the low silence of the back of the car, turning his head to watch out of the window. “Never been this far north before…”

“Maybe we’ll catch the Northern Lights,” Sirius mused, absently rubbing over Remus’ knuckles. He hadn’t ever brought anyone to the cabin before. No relationship had ever seemed serious enough. He and James had gotten away up here a few times, on _Artist’s Retreats_ where they could sit and create and recharge and smoke on the deck. Or after Walburga turned up at their old flat and Sirius couldn’t stomach sitting there waiting for her to return. James and Lily had come up together many times too, but Sirius never felt like this was his place. The house further in the village that Monty and Effie rented from their friends for family holidays was his, but this quiet, private place was never his, until now. It was his and Remus’. For as long as they needed.

The taxi dropped them off at the end of a road too narrow for it to go any further. Sirius hooked his backpack onto his shoulder and took Remus’ hand as they strode down the short path to the cabin, rising out of the ground like a standing stone. The deck unfurled around the tiny cabin, angled perfectly for sunrise on one side. Sirius strode onto the deck and retrieved the key from the key-safe before he unlocked the door and let Remus go in first.

“Oh,” Remus said, setting his backpack down on the small sofa in front of the wood-burner. “It’s so… quaint.”

The front door opened straight into the cosy living area, a kitchen at one end, filled with the essentials and buttressed by a small, wooden dining table. A large, L-shaped sofa sat along one wall and a wood-burner against the opposite. A decent sound system sat to one side—Monty loved his music—and a small television was nestled up on a shelf. Sirius hadn’t turned the thing on once, so he had no clue whether it even worked. In the corner sat the steep staircase—its underneath a wall of bookcases—to where the bedroom lay above.

Sirius smiled and shut the door behind them. “Is it okay for your lordship?” He joked, hoping it hid the undercurrent of his worry that this wouldn’t be okay, and Remus would hate being here, with him.

Remus turned and pinned him with the most open look Sirius had seen for a long time, and all of their looks were open right now, there was _nothing_ between them. “It’s wonderful, Padfoot. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Moons.” Sirius sighed. “We should get the fire going.”

Remus grinned and ran a hand over the back of his neck. “I’ll get the fire going. You want to break out that whisky?”

Hiding his shock that Remus would volunteer to make a fire, Sirius smiled and pulled off his coat, hanging it on the hooks in the corner. “Sounds good.”

He settled with two tumblers of whisky on the tiny coffee table and watched with ill-concealed admiration as Remus knelt before the wood-burner and stoked a fire to life there, coaxing it with puffs of air and well-skilled and timed additions of tinder and sticks.

“You’re good at that,” Sirius said, swirling his own whisky around and admiring the curve of Remus’ back in the setting sun.

Remus turned his head to gift him a smile over his shoulder and the orange light glittered over his lip ring and pooled in the amber of his eyes. He looked warm and honeyed, beautiful and open. Sirius wanted to sink to his knees and crawl over to him but in a moment Remus would join him on the sofa.

“We had a wood-burner at my parent’s house,” Remus said, shutting the little door and sitting back on his heels. Sirius felt the warmth of the fire begin to suffuse through the air. “Guess that was always my job.”

“Glad to know we won’t die if we get snowed in then, hm?” Sirius held the second tumbler out to Remus as the other man crossed the tiny room and sank onto the sofa next to him.

“Yep. We can drink the snow and eat…” Remus trailed off, frowning a little and looking around the room as if it might hold a source of inspiration. He leant in to Sirius and smiled. “Each other?”

“Oh, I like the sound of that,” Sirius shot back, grinning too. Unable to stop himself he reached up and cupped Remus’ cheek, stroking his thumb over the high point where the sunset light splashed. He looked happier here, for the first time in nearly a week. Remus looked like he could breathe again, like the light was back in his eyes, like he could _smile_ again.

Sirius’ heart hurt knowing that it wouldn’t last, though. They would have to go back to London eventually, and face whatever it held for them. Maybe by then the police would’ve caught up with Greyback, or he would’ve moved on somehow. Sirius tried to hold out hope that one of those things would happen eventually. But here, they could pretend none of that was happening. They could just hide out here and be with each other.

Sirius held his tumbler out to toast. He didn’t know what he was toasting, didn’t _say_ anything, didn’t think there was anything he _could_ say that wouldn’t sound stupid or trivial. But Remus, understanding, somehow, always, entwined, adrift, just clinked his glass against Sirius’ and took a sip of the drink.

“Monty has good taste in whisky,” Remus said, rolling the amber liquid around in his mouth.

Sirius wanted to chase the taste of it with his tongue but they hadn’t done anything more than kiss since Greyback appeared and Sirius didn’t know where he stood right now, didn’t know if either of them could weather the metaphorical undoing of sex. For a couple with a track record of fucking instead of talking, they had been doing a _lot_ of talking in the past week, and Sirius found he didn’t feel odd for the lack of sex. It wasn’t important right now. Their energy went on keeping each other together.

Sirius smiled. “Don’t know that I can tell, honestly. It’s not a margarita.”

Remus rolled his eyes and nudged Sirius with his elbow. “You’re fucking awful.”

“And you’re a whisky connoisseur are you, Moons?” Sirius retorted, sipping his whisky.

“Yep.” Remus took a longer drink of his whisky. “This one gives me a distinctly tipsy aroma, it’s very… whisky-y on the nose, and feels very nicely burn-y on the way down—” Remus motioned to his throat with one finger, dragging down to his sternum— “so all in all, a good whisky. Solid 10/10, would drink again.”

Sirius snorted and drained the rest of his own whisky, tilting his head from side to side in thought. “Hmm, yeah. I think I agree. 10/10, _nicely burn-y_.”

Their joined laughter echoed through the cabin as Sirius let his head fall onto Remus’ shoulder and the other man pressed his mouth into Sirius’ hair. Remus’ stomach rumbled as Sirius’ sighed out a final laugh and that only started them laughing again, a strange, desperate hysteria over them both like all they _could_ do was laugh, else it would be crying, and they’d done enough of that.

“Y’hungry?” Sirius sighed through another peal of laughter. “Effie said Kevin had been up with basics.” He peeled himself off the sofa and crossed to the kitchen, finding a loaf of what looked like hand-baked bread in the bread bin, and a piece of good cheddar in the fridge. “Cheese on toast?”

“Mmm, sounds good.” Remus poured them both another measure of whisky and when Sirius glanced over his shoulder, he saw Remus watching him, unabashed. “You do spoil me, Pads.”

“Cheese on toast and whisky? Of course.” Sirius grinned, taking his proffered whisky tumbler to sip on whilst he puttered about making their supper.

Remus hooked his phone up to the speakers and they chatted about music and work. Remus had found a new scarification artist on Instagram who was doing some really beautiful things, apparently. Sirius would’ve been jealous of this Amelia Bones if it weren’t for the fact he knew Remus was absolutely, categorically not interested in women. That, and he knew that Remus looked at him and saw the distance stretching out into their future, just like Sirius did. Sirius talked about his latest tattoo pieces and the upcoming ones. They talked about the rockstar who wanted some of Sirius’ work and how that made him near sick with excitement.

Once cheese on toast had been retrieved from the grill, Sirius jerked his head towards the staircase in the corner. “What do you say we take this and some whisky upstairs to go watch the stars in bed, hm?”

Remus topped up both of their tumblers before he stood up, following Sirius towards the staircase. “Mmm, I can think of one star I want to watch.”

Sirius shot a glance over his shoulder to see Remus grinning, the tip of his tongue perched on his lip ring. “You’re filthy,” he said with no bite, stooping a little as they went up into the eaves. He set their plate down and sprawled on the bed as Remus placed their tumblrs on the sill behind the headboard and crawled onto the bed to peer out of the window.

“The view up here is mad, isn’t it…”

“Yeah,” Sirius breathed, staring up at Remus, the sharp line of his jaw disappearing down into the v-neck of his shirt. “C’mon, cheese on toast.”

Remus settled against the headboard and pulled their plate onto his lap. 

Sirius picked up a piece of toast and chewed on a corner, tilting his head back up to look up out the skylight above them.

Remus’ head dropped onto Sirius’ shoulder and Sirius felt his jaw working as he chewed at his own toast. Remus’ late night playlist drifted up from the speakers, soft melodic tones and bright guitar chords.

Sirius pressed a kiss to Remus’ hair. “Who’s this?” Sirius murmured, not wanting to break the spell of the music as Remus tipped his head back onto the headboard.

“ _The 1975_ ,” Remus replied. “Acoustic set…” He sipped his whisky. “Nice, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. Suits you,” Sirius whispered, licking the toast crumbs from his fingers and twisting to pick up his whisky.

“Me? I’m not nice and sweet, not like this is.”

Sirius tilted his head. “You’re joking, right?” Sirius pressed his mouth to the mandala of Remus’ jaw. “You are the sweetest thing I know, Remus. You’re _it_.”

Remus chuckled, the tops of his cheeks colouring soft pink in the low light of the cabin. “You’re tipsy?”

“On whisky this good?” Sirius smiled, setting his glass down and pressing his mouth in idle adoration along the knife of Remus’ jaw, not wanting anything but to give reassurance. He only wanted Remus to know how much he was loved. “No. I’m just honest, Moons. I love you, I mean it. The Highlands is a fraction of the distance I would go for you. Whatever you need, forever.”

Remus placed his whisky down with a thud onto the sill and looped his arm around Sirius’ waist. Their bodies slid together, the peak of familiarity even after such a short time. How had it been months when it felt like years, decades, _lifetimes?_ Remus kissed Sirius with whisky-warm lips and dragged fingers through the trickling ends of silken hair around his shoulders. When he pulled away he looked glassy and beautiful and bit at his lip ring as if searching for the words. “I love you. _Thank you.”_


	12. Chapter 12

 

Sunrise filtered through the skylight and the low window atop the headboard and washed warmth and ruddy colour over the bed. Sirius stirred with his face pressed into the nape of Remus’ neck, his arm slung over the line of the other man’s waist.

They had crawled into bed last night, drank more whisky and listened to music until Remus had drifted to sleep circling his fingers over the roses on Sirius’ sternum. Sirius had slipped off into sleeping only a scant few moments later, knowing they were safe up here. Sirius pressed a kiss to the edges of Remus’ hairline, walked his fingers up to the scarification atop his stomach, pressed closer. The cabin wasn’t warm enough for being shirtless, so Sirius wasn’t pressed directly against Remus’ moon scar, but it was as close as he’d ever been before, not counting the previous Saturday morning.

Remus stirred awake slowly, the first signs of consciousness dripping along his limbs as they pressed back into Sirius, still warm and honeyed.

“The sunrise is gorgeous, Moony. Great view up here,” Sirius whispered, pressing a line of kisses to Remus’ ear.

“Pads?” Remus mumbled, rubbing his face into his forearm. He rolled over and Sirius was gifted with an unguarded, morning smile, the twist of his lip ring and the glint of his tongue stud just behind his front teeth.

“Morning,” Sirius hummed, smudging a kiss to the corner of Remus’ sharp mouth.

Remus grinned and lifted up onto one elbow to respond with a tender kiss to Sirius’ lips, heedless of their whisky morning breath. He rolled onto his front and peered out of the window behind the headboard, his auburn hair a coiled mess and sleep peeling down from the corners of his eyes.

Sirius ran his hand through his hair, raking it back from his face, before dropping his hand onto Remus’ shoulder, touching his thumb to the corner of his jaw. “Gorgeous, isn’t it?”

“I like the stars better,” Remus replied with a wry smile, rubbing a hand over his mouth.

Sirius rolled his eyes to hide how much his insides had turned to molten lava at Remus’ words. “I’m going to make tea.” Sirius swung his legs from the bed but Remus caught his wrist and stopped him just before his feet hit the floor.

“You sleep okay?” Remus said, pressing his nose into the honey-sweet dip behind Sirius’ ear.

“Mmm.” Sirius trailed sunrise-warm fingers over Remus’ arm. “I did. Did you?”

“Yeah. I actually slept.”

Sirius turned to meet Remus in another kiss, couldn’t help himself, not with the sunrise throwing everything into warm relief and melting them back to component parts, back to only important things, only heartbeats and warm skin. He pulled back on a soft gasp, opening his eyes to see Remus’ eyelids flickering pleasantly, the sunrise rising over his face and catching all the threaded metal of him. “Tea,” Sirius whispered.

Remus let go of his arm and Sirius felt that amber gaze as he padded down the staircase and over to the stovetop kettle. He went through the motions of making tea, finding a glass bottle of milk in the door of the fridge, spooning in sugar and catching the kettle just before it whistled so it wouldn’t wake Remus if the other man had drifted back to sleep. Sirius found bacon in the fridge too, wrapped in wax paper. James wasn’t here to cook it to perfection but he thought they might manage.

Sirius picked up both mugs and, humming a particularly persistent melody from their playlist last night, turned to take them back up to bed. He saw Remus sitting on the top step, resting his chin on the palm of his hand and watching Sirius with an almost unbearable fondness on his sharp features.

“Alright?” Sirius said, his voice high with surprise.

“Yeah… just watching you.” Remus shrugged one shoulder. “You’re nice to watch.”

Sirius was distantly thankful for the fact he hadn’t been dancing around the kitchen to some song heard only in his mind. He wondered if Remus would just find that endearing too though, after Saturday nights drinking margaritas in their flat before they ventured out to Heaven.

“Who are you and what have you done with Moony?” Sirius scraped out, setting the tea on the small coffee table and rubbing his hand through his hair.

Remus stood and descended the stairs, shrugging again. “Moony’s just been able to breathe for the first time in a week and is feeling distinctly grateful for his Padfoot.”

Sirius grinned and met him at the base of the stairs, letting Remus wind arms around his waist and pull them together. “Whatever you need, Moons.”

Remus pressed a kiss to Sirius’ mouth, then let his lips skim over the line of his jaw, breathing air beneath the wings of the hawk at his throat. “What is there to do up in the middle of nowhere, then?” Remus murmured, pressing adoration with the shape of his lips there.

Sirius smiled and ran his hands through Remus’ hair, tipping them together. “Go for walks if it doesn’t rain, sit and smoke on the porch, boardgames, jigsaw puzzles, listen to music and just… just bloody breathe properly?” Sirius kissed Remus’ temple and ran fingers over his biceps. “We don’t have to do _anything_ if you don’t want.”

“Except each other,” Remus said, grinning wolfishly.

Sirius laughed and let his body sink against Remus’, relishing in the way they always slotted together so perfectly, they always have, always been a match to tinder for the two of them. Sirius allowed his fingers to stroke up over Remus’ shoulders and dance across the cords of his neck. “Not even that, not if you don’t want to, you know.”

Remus hummed in agreement, plastering one hand down to the small of Sirius’ back where the tail of his dragon curled. “Maybe after tea, and something to eat, else I don’t think I’ll be able to make it through. Getting off with you sends my heart rate too high and as much as I’d like to shuffle off this mortal coil in the throes of you, maybe in a couple of decades?”

Warmth flooded through Sirius, a heady, floating feeling of acceptance and affection, a cocktail he’d never felt until now, now even with James or Lily. “A couple of decades sounds good. I’ll hold you to that, Moony.”

Remus grinned and sidled around him to sit on the sofa and lift a mug to his lips to take a sip. “Please do.”

And that was that. It was easy, for now, in the haven of this cabin, allowing them to exist in harmony without worrying about what was happening down south. As if summoning his thoughts, Sirius’ phone rang, left upon the bedside table upstairs. Sirius groaned, taking the stairs quickly to snatch it up.

 _James Potter_.

No unknown numbers, no text messages saying _he’s mine_ —God, it really was like something out of a horror movie, wasn’t it? Thankfully that hadn’t happened—but Sirius was still worried.

“Prongs?” Sirius said when the line connected.

“Everything’s fine,” James said quickly, as if he knew what a phone call out of the blue might do to his brother. “Checking you’re okay, is all. Got there fine.”

“Yeah,” Sirius said, sinking onto the edge of the bed. “Got here fine, it’s lovely… Sorry, didn’t check in… we were exhausted.”

“Understandable. Don’t worry about it. Just making sure.” James puffed a sigh of relief. “Shop’s fine, we’re managing.”

“Yeah? Christ, thanks Prongs. You and Lily save my life at least once a year, you know.”

“I know. Glad to do it, else I’d have no brother.”

Sirius laughed and rubbed a hand over his face. “You planning on checking in every morning?”

“No. Lord, no.” James laughed and Sirius could imagine him pulling his glasses from his nose to wipe them free of smudges. “I know how you and Moony like your mornings, thank you very much.”

“Oh yeah?” Sirius snorted, finally feeling able to grin again in the safety of this cabin. It felt like Potter Farm, that same sense of comfort he felt there. Sirius hoped he could pass it onto Remus here as well.

“Yeah. Ugh, God you’re not doing it now, are you? Padfoot! I’m going now! Say hi to Moony for me.”

“Uh—sure! Bye Prongs!” Sirius did nothing to convince James otherwise, just laughed into the phone as James blustered and eventually hung up. Laughing, Sirius started back down the stairs to see Remus smiling over his tea.

“Alright?” Remus said, setting his mug down.

“Yeah, Prongs just checking in.” Sirius sank onto the sofa next to Remus and grinned as the other man wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “He says hi.”

“I heard,” Remus replied dryly, smiling against Sirius’ hair.

They cooked breakfast together after drinking their tea, two plates of bacon—fried well enough but nowhere near as good as James’ skills—and scrambled eggs so yellow they might’ve been with the hens only yesterday. It was still cold despite the sun having risen, so instead of eating out on the deck they pulled out the small dining room table and sat together with knees knocking, Remus’ bare foot pressed between Sirius’ socked ankles.

After breakfast Sirius settled on the sofa as Remus tended to the fire. The warm light flickered beautifully over Remus’ profile, catching the little scar across his nose and the glint of his piercings. Sirius thought he would never be free of the urge to catalogue every bit of Remus. With a contented sigh, Sirius pulled his feet onto the sofa and propped a sketchbook onto his knees. He hadn’t had time to draw recently outside of client work, and James was always right when he told Sirius drawing made him feel better.

The sofa shifted next to Sirius as Remus sat down and pulled the lid from a jigsaw box on his lap. Sirius raised an eyebrow, pencil hovering over the page.

“What?” Remus said, his tongue stud clicking against the backs of his teeth, smiling. “I like jigsaws.”

Sirius shook his head, smiling fondly. “What’s this one of?” He tilted his sketchbook out of the way to peer at the lid of the box as Remus sorted through with one finger to find all the edge pieces.

“A… steam train of some sort?” Remus said, barely glancing from his job.

“Oh, the Flying Scotsman.” Sirius swept up the box.

“How’d you know that?”

Sirius grinned. “Says on the lid.”

Remus rolled his eyes and leant forward, elbows on his knees, to start assembling pieces. His phone was already hooked to the speakers, playing one of his many playlists and Sirius tucked his toes beneath Remus’ thigh as he drew absent-mindedly.

It wasn’t long before Sirius was gravitating towards new tattoo ideas. Full moons, crescent moons, phases of them sliding along his skin. He could get James to do it, not tell Remus a thing and let the other man discover it on him. Or maybe a wolf; Remus Lupin was the most _wolf_ name Sirius had ever heard, after all, and Remus’ amber eyes and his smile and the way he nipped at Sirius’ neck only compounded that lovely vision. Sirius drew wolves howling, wolves curled up sleeping, wolves running through forests at full-tilt.

When Remus got up to make more tea, Sirius tilted his head slightly and watched the other man moving back and forth between the sink and counter, moving with familiarity already around the small space. _Wherever he goes, I go_ , Sirius thought, scratching absently at the black dog over his sternum.

Oh, the black dog with the constellation on his forehead. Sirius seized up his pencil and flicked to a new page, drawing furiously. He didn’t notice when Remus sat next to him again and set a steaming mug of tea on the corner of the coffee table closest to him, too engrossed in the idea forming in his brain, desperate to pour it out.

Remus tucked his fingers under Sirius’ thigh, one hand still picking out jigsaw pieces as he hummed along to the music. Sirius felt the warmth of his fingers and let it flood through him as he sat back to peer properly at the drawing.

A brown timbre wolf stared out at Sirius, with amber eyes and wild fur. On his forehead, where the black dog’s constellation sat, there was a shining full moon, looking like a third eye, like the infamous Ziggy Stardust image with the gold disk atop his brow. Sirius rubbed a thumb between the wolf’s ears, tilting his head to peer at Remus. Remus’ playlist floated through the air over them and Sirius recognised the band as the same from last night.

_In case, you’re my medicine, yeah, you’re my medicine._

Sirius bit his lip, thumb still rubbing absently over the wolf’s ears, imagining where it would fit on his body. He wanted it on his back, between his shoulder blades like a signifier of them. But that space was already taken up with the head of the dragon, curled in cherry blossoms. His thigh then, a space large enough for the wolf to feel as important as Remus felt in this moment. Somewhere he could lean on throughout the day, somewhere Remus’ fingers could drift over absently, somewhere Remus’ mouth could map…

 _I, I wanna marry you. Said I, I adore you. And that’s all I have to say, bye-bye. And you opiate this hazy head of mine_.

Sirius drew in a sharp breath, plastering his hand over the drawing, as if trying to absorb it into himself, threading through with realisation, honey-warm and leaden like promises, that this was _it_. His eyes flickered into focus over Remus’ profile, tip of his tongue on his lip ring. Unable to stop himself, Sirius tipped forward and slid his graphite-smudged palm over Remus’ jaw, turning his face to meet him in a kiss.

Remus hummed in surprise, the puzzle pieces slipping from his fingers as he kissed back, unexpected but fervent. Sirius pushed his sketchbook aside, shifting onto his knees to press closer to Remus, his hand grazing down to Remus’ shoulder to peel them closer.

“Hi,” Remus breathed into their kiss. “This is unexpected.”

“Just—” Sirius nipped at Remus’ lip ring and grinned at the warm chase of Remus’ tongue stud— “looking at you there and thought _fucking hell, I love him so bloody much_.”

Remus grinned. “Oh, I like that.” He chuckled into Sirius’ mouth and sat back on the sofa, allowing Sirius to climb into his lap and lick into his mouth with idle insouciance, with all the time in the world. Remus coiled his tongue back against Sirius’, his hands skimming in long, gentle passes over Sirius’ sides. “I love you too, obviously.”

Sirius sank into Remus, his legs bracketed either side of Remus’ thighs, his hands braced on Remus’ shoulders. “Obviously.” Pressing their foreheads together, Sirius ran a hand over Remus’ chest, the rapid rise-and-fall of it as they kissed, winding together.

There was a knock at the door. Sirius froze as Remus gasped into his mouth and tilted back to look at him, his features pinched. _It couldn’t be… not here?_ It would be someone else, someone from the village.

Sirius scrambled from Remus’ lap, trying to give him a reassuring look as he straightened his shirt and tried to catch his breath. He crossed to the door and unlocked it, pulling it open just a fraction, holding his breath.

Then, all the breath rushed out of him in a grateful plume.

“Oh, hullo Mr. Potter,” Kevin said, smiling.

“Kevin, hi—” Sirius slumped against the doorframe, allowing the door to open a little more. Kevin always called him Mr. Potter, ever since he’d started joining the Potter’s on family holidays and James had started calling him _brother_. No one corrected the locals, of course, and Sirius was more than happy to be a Potter, his stomach swooping excitedly every time. “Everything okay?”

“Aye. Thought I’d pop by and say hullo. Mrs. Potter said one o’ her bairns was comin’ up but I wasnae sure which one, but eh, here you are! Just you, lad?”

Sirius smiled. Kevin felt like that strange uncle you only saw once a year, but was strangely invested in your wellbeing. “No, no. Boyfriend and I, just here for a few days.” Sirius opened the door a little wider as Remus slipped from the sofa and came over to the door, smiling a little shyly.

“Oh, eh—that’s nice, away from the city, eh?” Kevin nodded at Remus, then gestured with the glass bowl in his hands. “Maggie’s made some scotch broth, ye might like some?”

“That’s lovely, thank you…” Sirius took the proffered bowl. “You sure that’s okay?”

“Ach, aye lad, dinnae worry about it. Just leave the bowl and I’ll come back fae it when you’re away back tae the Big Smoke, aye?”

“Alright… that’s kind, Kevin, thank you.”

“Aye, grand. You’ll call if you need anything, aye?”

“Yeah, we will, Kevin. Thanks again…” Sirius gestured with the bowl. “Have a good day.”

Sirius watched as Kevin started off the deck and down the path, whistling to himself. After a moment he let the door swing shut and turned towards Remus with a bemused smile. “So, that’s Kevin.”

Remus chuckled. “He seems nice… and that soup smells good.”

“Yeah… just poor timing, huh?”

“The worst,” Remus agreed, trailing Sirius as he crossed to put the soup on the kitchen counter.

Sirius tried not to think about how his heart-rate had sky-rocketed at the knock on the door, expecting Greyback there as if he was a spectre to follow them now wherever they went. It wouldn’t be like that; they would stay here for a while, where he couldn’t get them, then, eventually, the police would catch up with him and put him away so Remus would never have to even think about him anymore. Sirius had to admit that Kevin arriving ruined the mood a little though. No matter, he thought, as Remus set a hand on his lower back. They had all the time in the world.

That evening they sat on the deck and sipped at Monty’s whisky and smoked. Sirius tucked his toes under Remus’ thigh and let his head tip back to stare at the stars. The moon was slowly fattening, almost full in the sky so that the light from the cabin was barely needed.

Sirius drew absent-mindedly, the idea of the wolf taking over his mind, determined to get it perfect so he could present it to James when they arrived back home. Remus rolled cigarettes with sure, skilled fingers and passed every other one to Sirius after licking them closed. When it got too cold, the sun well below the horizon and the sky sinking from pink and orange down into inky-blackness, they moved inside and crawled into bed together, finishing the last of the whisky in their glasses with smoke-smudged lips.

Everything was easy. Nothing had to be thought on for too long. They drank tea and whisky, ate whatever food there was and sat in comfortable quiet, music dancing from the speakers and some part of each other pressed together. Sirius had never felt so at ease before in his whole life, and he wanted, desperately, for a fleeting moment, to never leave this haven.

The crows came at midnight, but they only cawed softly at the edges of Sirius’ unconsciousness, and before he could let them settle and sink their claws in he stirred with Remus’ arm around him. He laid for a moment, breathing sharply into the space beneath Remus’ jaw, waiting for his heart-rate to slow, then, kissing the leaf of the lotus that peered around the side of Remus’ neck, ran his fingers down Remus’ stomach, feeling it quiver with life.

“Hi,” Remus breathed, coming awake slowly. Sirius was almost upset to rouse him, but Remus was so warm in the warmth of the cabin and Sirius wanted to bask in it. Sirius kissed along his throat and swirled his tongue over the piercing there, remembering how desperately he’d wanted to kiss it when they first met.

“Hi…” Sirius shifted as Remus rolled onto his back and tangled fingers through Sirius’ hair, pulling it from its ponytail. “You look so good in the moonlight…” Sirius kissed along his collarbone then, moving a little more, ducked to pluck at the hem of his shirt and press kisses along the soft skin of his stomach.

Remus chuckled, stretching his legs out to make room for Sirius as he settled in between them, rucking Remus’ shirt up to kiss his moon-drenched skin. “So do you…”

Sirius grinned to himself, his trail of kisses meandering over the waistband of Remus’ pyjama bottoms and leaving hot, wet marks over the darkening fabric as Remus grew harder beneath it. Sirius let his tongue swirl in graceful arcs over the cotton, grinning when he felt the ridge of Remus’ piercing beneath it. Glancing up, he saw Remus propped on his elbows and the pillows, his amber eyes startlingly bright in the warm contrast of the moonlight, watching Sirius like a masterpiece. He shifted a little and reached for his phone, but Sirius caught his wrist to stop him.

“Leave it,” Sirius whispered into the still night air, happy to let it be nothing but the sound of their breathing, nothing to hide tonight.

Remus nodded and sank back into the bed, trailing his fingertips up Sirius’ arm and through the ends of his hair. “You’re gorgeous.”

Sirius hooked his fingers over the last piece of clothing between he and Remus, pushing the bottoms down out of the way. He didn’t want to _tease_ exactly, but it felt like they didn’t have time to do this often enough, not with just the noise of the wind outside and Remus’ little sharp breaths. Sirius laved his tongue in circles over the head of Remus’ cock, tonguing at the warmth of the piercing just beneath the head.

“Remember,” Sirius murmured, gripping the base of Remus’ cock, “the first time, and I was _so_ fascinated by your piercing.”

“Yeah,” Remus breathed, his fingers tracing over Sirius’ hairline. “I remember. I think you’re still fascinated by it…”

Sirius rolled his eyes, grinning as he took the head of Remus’ cock into his mouth, sliding over his tongue. He blinked up at Remus, watching the other man’s back bow and lift slightly as his breath hissed out of him, deliciously slow. Sirius knew how to pull Remus apart, knew how to push all of his buttons; the sensitive spot of his piercing, thumbing over the vein at the base. When Sirius pulled off to lick his palm, too impatient to dig the lube out of his backpack in the corner, Remus tossed his head and gasped.

Remus fumbled to grasp at Sirius’ free hand and lace their fingers together, his thumb digging into the back of Sirius’ hand as Sirius pulled him higher and higher towards pleasure. After a moment Sirius squeezed his hand and slid his fingers from Remus’ grasp to palm up his inner thigh and over the soft skin of his balls, humming happily. Remus moaned sharply, his hands tangling in the sheets around them for purchase. Sirius grinned as Remus’ hips lifted from the bed slightly in search of _more_ ; feeling Remus come down around him was one of Sirius’ favourite feelings, and Sirius did it so well.

Sirius pressed closer, taking Remus deeper into his mouth and savouring the way he throbbed, enjoying the way Remus jerked and gasped every time Sirius pressed his tongue to the piercing.

“Jesus— _fuck_ , Pads!” Remus grabbed at Sirius’ shoulder, toes curling, as he came down Sirius’ throat with a shudder and a deep moan. Sirius coaxed him through it, tongue swirling, hand stroking, swallowing him down.

Sirius smiled and finally pulled off when Remus sank boneless into the bed and grinned, unseeing, up at the ceiling. “Alright?” Sirius said, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand and crawling up next to him.

Remus hooked an arm around Sirius’ waist to pull him down, kissing the corner of his mouth. “More than alright,” Remus said, stroking along Sirius’ spine. “My boyfriend just woke me up for an incredibly good blowjob. I think that fits quite well into the _great_ category.”

“Oh, I suppose so.” Sirius laughed, letting Remus urge him back onto the bed so Remus could kiss down his neck and nip at his collarbones. It was a good job Sirius was quite heavily tattooed there, else he’d constantly be the butt of jokes from James and Lily for how often he had purple and red blooms there in the shape of Remus’ teeth. Still, he didn’t care, it would be worth it for Remus.

Remus kissed his way over Sirius’ sternum, breathing life into the black dog and Sirius thought of the drawing downstairs, thought of the matching wolf, and his heart soared. Remus kept kissing downwards, over the tattoos he must know so well, to the _Reckless_ tattooed between Sirius’ hipbones. He had been, once, as a teenager, reckless and idiotic. But now, Sirius thought, he had something to protect.

Remus didn’t pause as he divested Sirius of his clothes and lavished kisses over the tender skin of his thighs. Sirius would never tire of Remus’ mouth, the combination of warm and cool, metal and soft, leaving hot and cold trails over his skin. Sirius threaded his fingers through Remus’ sleep-mussed hair, letting Remus shift as he swirled his tongue down Sirius’ length.

“Shit, Moons…” Sirius pressed up onto one hand, watching the moonlight filter over Remus’ face, catching in the piercing at his eyebrow as he smiled. Sirius let out a long moan as Remus dragged his tongue in one long, hot stripe up Sirius’ cock and over the slit before swallowing him down. God, Remus’ mouth was gorgeous, especially when wrapped around Sirius, but here, in the low moonlight, with nothing around them but the sound of Remus’ little hums and Sirius’ shorn-out breaths, Remus was Sirius’ _everything_.

Sirius grasped onto his shoulder, desperate for contact even though Remus was using both hands to stroke over Sirius and twist in tandem with his tongue. Sirius thought of wolves thundering through the forests, of—no—one wolf, one dog, auburn-brown and black, running together. Remus took him deeper, the drag of his lip ring down the underside of Sirius’ cock sending shivers racketing through him. Remus hummed encouragingly, one hand plastered over his hipbone to try and stop Sirius writhing so much, pressing up hungrily into Remus’ mouth.

“Ah, Moons, I—” Sirius arched off the bed, toes curling, muscles snapping to a crescendo as he was pulled along the taut line of desire to arrive at completion. Sirius clenched his eyes shut and cried out into the night air and dug crescent moons into Remus’ shoulder with his fingernails.

When Sirius opened his eyes again Remus’ head was resting on Sirius’ thigh, the blank space of thigh where the wolf would sit as soon as they found the time. Sirius ran his fingers through Remus’ curls, his heart fluttering pleasantly at Remus’ contented expression. That blank space beneath Remus’ cheek was _his_ , to be marked with something lupine and so _Remus_ for as long as Sirius was here.

 _Yeah, you’re my medicine_ …

Sleepy and warm, Sirius urged Remus back up next to him and pressed their limbs together, neither of them bothering to pull clothes back on. It was a bit of a stupid look really, shirts and no trousers, but Remus pulled the covers up over their legs and swiped his hands in long, soothing strokes over Sirius’ back. Remus relaxed into their embrace in a way Sirius hadn’t felt in a week, in a way he had forgotten used to be normal before Greyback appeared, but somehow it felt more than before, a step further towards them becoming one being wound together. Sirius smiled as they drifted back to sleep.

_Said I, I adore you…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you to my boo Purplechimera for the beta and all-round being an angel. Thank _you_ for reading, darling, I'm so happy to have you here.
> 
> Also, I put a teensy tiny reference to one of my other fandoms here. Props and kudos and hugs to you if you spot it!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you to Purplechimera for being the best beta there is. And thank you to _you_ for reading, kudo-ing (?) and commenting or any combination of the three. Today's chapter is _long_ but I couldn't/wouldn't split it up, so here is an extra long chapter because I adore you all.

 

The next morning it felt as if they were starting to get a rhythm back. They woke with sleepy kisses to the dregs of the sunrise, sleeping later than the previous day. Sirius circled the flat of his palm over Remus’ stomach as it rose and fell with even breaths.

Remus smiled into Sirius’ mouth, his lip ring warm from kisses against Sirius’ bottom lip and Sirius felt like the dawn was only the beginning of their new lives. Sirius made tea whilst Remus toasted the last of their bread and they sat at the kitchen table, knees pressed together, still muzzy and pyjama-clad.

“We’ll have to walk into the town later,” Sirius said, stifling a yawn into his shoulder. “Get some more food. We can go for a walk too, go through the town on the way back?”

“That sounds good.” Remus swallowed the last gulp of his tea and set the mug down.

Sirius watched him for a moment, head cocking. He was starting to learn Remus’ mannerisms, starting to see the way his mouth twitched when he was thinking. Reaching out, Sirius took Remus’ hand and laced their fingers. “He won’t be here. I promise.”

Remus squeezed their fingers and ducked his head to press his mouth against Sirius’ knuckles. He sighed softly and Sirius watched his shoulders slump with released tension. “Yeah… thank you.” He smiled, all the gorgeous bits of him catching the still-early light and Sirius’ heart swelled with affection, hot and brisk under his skin to make his soul soar.

After breakfast, licking the honey from his fingers, Sirius followed Remus up the stairs—admiring the view before him—and got dressed. A few slightly distracting kisses later, they were tumbling out of the front door, laughing into each other, setting out for a stroll across the hills bordering the town.

Sirius kept his hand clasped in Remus’ as they walked up the trail, gazing out at the vista of the Highlands before them. The wind whipped his hair around over his eyes but Sirius’ gaze kept sliding back to Remus, his coat zipped up to his chin, his auburn curls in wild throes in the wind. His amber eyes were shining as he gripped Sirius’ hand and stared out at the view.

“This reminds me of the valley back home—” he seemed to correct himself— “with my parents, I mean.”

“That's not home?” Sirius shoved his other hand in his pocket, pausing halfway up the trail to peer at Remus, pensive over the hills.

“Mm, don't think so…” Remus shrugged, squeezing Sirius’ hand. “I've not been back since I left when I was 18. Once I was strong enough to go travelling after the hospital, I just left with a backpack of stuff…” Remus started walking again, his long legs eating up the ground beneath them, choppy with rocks and clumps of brush. “Parents came to visit once when I was in London, working with Poppy… I don't know that they knew what to say to me though. I think there's too much between us now.”

“Blood family isn't the be-all and end-all, Moony,” Sirius said on a sigh, squinting into the pallid sunlight this far north. He knew what that was like. Sirius’ found family was far more important to him than the people he was born to, the people who tore him to pieces. Remus was part of that found family now too—Euphemia would make sure of that. Sirius would make sure of that.

“Yeah. I know.” Remus squeezed his hand again, as if to say something neither of them could voice.

Sirius stepped to the side with Remus to allow someone coming down the trail past. When they carried on walking, Remus didn't speak or look his way for a while, staring out over the horizon, clear and blue, green and grey intersecting in long swathes and sharp peaks. The Highlands were beautiful. As they climbed the trail Sirius remembered all his previous visits there from his mid-teens with the Potters, thinking of running along trails and leaping from scraggy outcrops with the boundless energy of a teenager. He remembered staying in the bigger lodge on the other edge of town on big family holidays with the Potters—the endless Potter cousins—and, eventually, Lily too. And now Sirius had brought Remus here, to this beautiful place where he felt almost as safe as Potter Farm.

They walked in a comfortable half-silence, hands clasped together. Remus spoke of his travels in Papua New Guinea, of climbing the Rabaul volcano and exploring the rest of the archipelago. Sirius recounted weeks up in the Highlands exploring trails. Both of them skirted over the less pleasant times—the Welsh valleys where memories hung in a thick fog, the chateau in the Alps that smelled of split blood. They walked for an hour maybe, in the mild air and the bracing winds, not in a hurry to reach the summit, just enjoying the journey, discovering little alcoves or clambering onto outcrops.

At the top, there was a viewing point with a few craggy outcrops often used as seats, and Sirius stepped in to sit on one, looking out. Remus sat next to him and fished his tobacco bag out of his pocket.

“This view…” Remus murmured, flicking out a paper and shielding the little valley of it from the wind with the corner of his coat whilst he sprinkled in tobacco in the off-hand way he rolled cigarettes. It was second nature to Remus, it seemed, and endlessly fascinating—and alluring—to Sirius, who never had the patience to learn when younger.

“It’s something, isn’t it?” Sirius asked, leaning his head on Remus’ shoulder and watching his fingers work. The sleeve of his coat fell back to expose the beginnings of the scarification on his forearms, those geometric skyscrapers from the horizon of his skin. Sirius touched his finger to the back of Remus’ wrist and traced one sharp, silver line as Remus passed him the first finished cigarette.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” Remus said, already rolling the second cigarette.

Sirius hummed. “I wish we hadn’t had to come—” he paused to light his cigarette and inhale— “but I’m glad we’re here together.”

“Yeah. The best of a shitty situation, I guess…” Remus tilted his head and cupped the end of Sirius’ cigarette, drawing him in to catch a light off him instead of reaching for their lighter. Sirius took the opportunity to study the smatter of freckles that danced over Remus’ nose, some bisected by the scar over the bridge, glittering.

Sirius smiled around his cigarette and cupped the angle of Remus’ jaw, his thumb smudging along the stubble collecting here. “Sounds okay to me right now. Nowhere I’d rather be.”

Remus tilted his head and kissed Sirius’ palm. “Me neither.”

“We’ll figure it all out, Moons.” Sirius shuffled closer and pressed the length of his thigh against Remus’, drawing back to take a pull on his cigarette and make a half-assed attempt to blow a smoke ring into the air above their heads. Distraction and deflection were wonderful coping mechanisms.

Remus sighed, smoke pluming out of his nose and being whisked away on the stiff breeze between them. “I wish we didn’t have to. It’s been ten years…”

Sirius’ heart ached. It had been ten years of Remus attempting to recover, of _recovering_ , of shedding the skins of his trauma and past lives, setting up in London, finding Marauder Ink, finding Sirius—Christ, had it only been six months for them? And now Greyback had to turn up and attempt to take Remus apart piece by piece. Well, Sirius wouldn’t let him.

“I know. It’s… fucking shit. But it won’t last. They’ll catch him… we’ll be right again, I promise.”

Remus hummed and ducked his head to kiss the corner of Sirius’ mouth. “Thank you.”

They stayed like that for a while; pressed together from knee to shoulder, smoking in the tiny gap they wanted to make between their bodies, shielded against the wind and impending chill. Sirius hooked his foot over Remus’ ankle and Remus wedged his free hand between Sirius’ thighs for the warmth there. They stubbed their cigarettes out on the rock beside them and Sirius pocketed the butts for lack of a nearby bin.

Sirius leant close and exhaled his last draw into Remus’ mouth, tilted gratefully towards him, soft with a smile at the closeness only usually reserved for the smoking area of Heaven in delightful facsimile of their very first night there. Remus caught the tips of Sirius’ hair between his fingertips and inhaled, letting the smoke winnow from the corner of his mouth.

The light in Remus’ eyes was warm and close, tender and honeyed, but Sirius blinked a few times. It was… dark, all of a sudden? A glance upwards saw the sky had turned a deep, burnished grey, roiling with clouds. Sirius only felt a few warning droplets of rain on his face before the heavens opened and poured sheets of rain in great swathes over them.

“Shit!” Remus said on a laugh, pulling his hood up but the wind was still ferocious and pulled it down every time he tried.

Sirius didn’t have a sodding hood. They stood, hands clasped, and made their way down the trail as quickly as possible with the wind and rain in their faces. Sirius’ hair dripped freezing water down the collar of his coat and Remus had given up on his hood and instead his curls were plastered to his head, as though he was fresh out of the shower.

“This is meant to be fucking romantic in the movies!” Sirius called over the rain bouncing on the ground and pelting their bodies. Remus laughed as they pressed into an alcove that barely afforded them half-cover from the elements. “Not that you don’t look incredibly delicious dripping wet,” Sirius muttered, eyes flickering over the rivulets of rain running over Remus’ face, the shoulders and chest of his coat dark with water.

Remus rolled his eyes. “Shut up.” But he was grinning at Sirius—who probably looked like a drowned rat—and it didn’t particularly matter they were caught in a downpour. “Let’s get back down… this isn’t gonna stop.”

“You a weatherman, are you?” But Sirius took Remus’ hand, laced their fingers, and grimaced at the wetness of their skin.

They all but ran down the trail, holding hands and trying not to slip as the ground became muddier and muddier with every step. The rain pelted them every step of the way, into Sirius’ eyes, down the back of his jacket. By the time they reached the edge of town Sirius’ shoes were miniature puddles and he was 90% sure his _underwear_ was damp with the rain. Remus next to him was equally dripping, his auburn hair dark and heavy with rainwater, laughing.

“C’mon, to the shop, whilst we’re out!” Sirius kept a hold of Remus’ hand as they ran through the High Street, trying to keep warm against the impending chill even as the rain started pooling across the roads and pavements. Remus was laughing the whole way and it was infectious, starting something bubbling in Sirius’ throat at the sheer absurdity of it, the bad luck, the idiocy of two men who had lived in the city for so long being caught out on a trail in the Highlands. Of course they didn’t check the weather or bring waterproofs, they just walked and it wasn’t anywhere near as romantic as the movies made it out to be.

In the shops Sirius wrapped his arms around his middle to try and stave off the cold and hung his head to hide the inescapable giggles. Remus hooked the basket over his arm and sniggered into the collar of his coat. The cashier gave them a strange look that only set Sirius and Remus off laughing even more. As quickly as they could, they grabbed what they needed and checked out. Sirius made an attempt at conversation with the cashier, something about the rain and getting caught out but there was water in his ears and Remus was sniggering next to him, hand jammed into Sirius’ coat pocket.

It was still raining when they emerged from the shops—although rain didn’t seem like an appropriate term, perhaps _the sky coming down around them_ would suit better—and so Sirius and Remus took off running again, smokers’ lungs burning from both laughter and exertion.

Remus nearly slipped on the slick decking of their little cabin, his arms flailing as he yelped in surprise and nearly tore Sirius down with him but Sirius caught himself on the fencing and kept Remus upright too, laughing and laughing. They tumbled into the cabin and Sirius locked the door behind them. He had no intention of braving the outside world for the rest of the day. Whilst Sirius set their groceries down on the table and fumbled at his coat with cold-numb fingers, Remus went to the wood-burner and stacked logs within, his teeth chattering.

Sirius shucked off his coat and hung it by the door before he crossed to the cupboard beneath the stairs and pulled out two towels, scrubbing one over his hair. Remus straightened and adjusted the airflow to boost the heat as Sirius drew closer to him and held the second towel out.

“I don’t know that a towel is gonna help—” Sirius gestured to the state of them both— “but it can’t make things _worse_.”

Remus was still laughing as he rubbed the towel over his face and hair. “Should’ve checked the weather before we started out, shouldn’t we?” came his voice from beneath towelling and frigid rainwater.

Sirius sniggered again, helpless against the waves of laughter, as he daubed the towel over his limbs. His teeth were chattering, his hair still stuck slick-fast to his neck. “Probably? I’m a city boy through and through, though. What’s your excuse, Welsh boy?”

“You’re a dick. Wales doesn’t want me,” Remus said with no bite, rubbing the towel over his shoulders.

“It’s a good job, then—” Sirius grabbed Remus’ hand and pulled him up the stairs to where the warm air was collecting in the eaves, where they could lose their sodden clothes and crawl under the covers for warmth— “that I’ll have you. It’s Wales’ loss.”

Remus’ smile could’ve warmed Sirius without the fire flickering away downstairs. He gripped Sirius’ hand tighter for a moment in their unspoken togetherness, before letting go and peeling off his soaked jumper. Sirius hurried along the same trajectory, struggling with his wet jeans and leaving a growing puddle on the floor beneath him. He was right, too, even his pants were wet. Sirius threw them into the pile and pulled on his pyjamas, thankfully fluffy and warm. Teeth chattering, Sirius crawled under the thick duvet and held the corner of it out for Remus to climb under. Sirius pressed his face into Remus’ neck and Remus pressed their legs together in an easy tangle, hoping to wick whatever warmth they could from each other and their surroundings.

“We’re fucking stupid, aren’t we?” Sirius muttered, palming over the curve of Remus’ lower back beneath his t-shirt.

Remus huffed a laugh into Sirius’ hair and pressed kisses to the damp mass of it. “Just a bit.”

Sirius smiled and kissed the tender angle of Remus’ neck. He slid his thumb across the dip of Remus’ spine, feeling tension gathered there beneath damp skin, and began kneading gently at a knot of muscle, relishing the soft little exhale that drew out of Remus’ throat. After a moment he slipped his fingers beneath the hem of Remus’ shirt and rediscovered the tension there afresh, teasing it out.

“Did you know,” Sirius murmured into the space of Remus’ throat, shifting slightly to press an idle kiss to the piercing there, “that one Christmas, Lils got Prongs and I a massage therapy course?” Remus made a soft, intrigued little noise and pressed his cheek to the top of Sirius’ head. “Because leaning over tattoo benches is murder on your back, obviously, and we were always complaining and trying to get her to stand on our backs and digging elbows into places and probably doing more bad than good.”

Remus stifled a laugh and curled his fingers through the damp tendrils of Sirius’ hair. “Why can I see that so clearly in my head?”

“Because you’re as mad as we are, Moons.” Sirius slid the heel of his palm over a particularly tense slice of muscle and smiled as Remus shivered against him. “So anyway, we turn up, and it’s all either middle-aged women or hippies. One of them near keeled over when we walked through the door, never mind when the jackets came off.”

Remus’ chest shuddered with laughter. Sirius could see it plain as day in his mind, the bewildered looks on the other attendees faces to see two boys with tattoos on their throats and down their knuckles walk into the room. “You didn’t get paired with them, did you?” Remus ushered out through another chuckle.

Sirius shook his head and kissed Remus’ throat piercing again, still sliding his slowly-warming hands over the tension that strung up Remus’ back. “No, thank God. James and I paired together. By the end of it though, we had a couple of them talking. One of them even came in for a tattoo with her daughter a while later.”

Remus smiled, still laughing, no doubt with the residual image of Sirius and James in some room with incense burning and Tibetan music playing in the background. “You can never tell the wild ones.”

“Exactly. So,” Sirius inhaled, digging his thumb into a particular knot, “what I’m saying is… I’m pretty good with my hands, if you want a massage. If your back hurts.”

“Oh.” Remus stilled and pitched back a little to peer at Sirius. His hair was slowly drying and springing back to life in buoyant curls.

Sirius shrugged a shoulder. “Just an offer. Keep your shirt on, take it off… I don’t mind either way.”

Remus bit at his lip ring, the soft, diffused light under the duvet barely glinting from the painted titanium. His amber eyes flickered over Sirius’ face as Sirius turned slightly and pressed a kiss to the scarred length of Remus’ forearm. After a long moment he shifted, rolling onto his front and pillowing his arms under his temple. His eyelids fluttered shut and Sirius felt trust billow up through him like wind through a sail.

“Hold on,” Sirius breathed, trying not to be floored by the way Remus still trusted him with every step. He pitched forward and reached out of the duvet to snatch his face cream off the bedside table. Massage oil it was not, but it would do.

When he settled back, straddling Remus’ thighs, he inched Remus’ shirt up around his stomach, baring the curve of his lower back, the dimples there, one soft pink scar that twisted down beneath the waistband of his pyjamas. Sirius started gently, feeling Remus’ skin warm up beneath his hands and smiling with satisfaction when he drew a particularly airy sigh from Remus’ mouth. He was following one long thread of muscle up Remus’ back when he knew if he got any further, Remus’ shirt would have to come off. The other man was so relaxed, sinking into the duvet, and Sirius was loathe to destroy that. But…

“Moons,” Sirius whispered, wondering for a moment when the air got so close in the room, when it had heated up so much; the fire must be roaring. “Can I take your shirt off?”

Remus immediately lifted his head and twisted onto his side, nearly tipping Sirius off him. Sirius caught himself and leant forward. The look in Remus’ eyes said it all, the fear there, _still_ , as if that place between his shoulder blades carried every bit of trauma, every second of sadness, and if Sirius touched it it would come flooding out. “Um…”

Sirius shut his eyes for a moment, trying to find the right words. “You remember after Regulus, when we got together… and I said to you, _I don’t see the scars, I only see you._ ” Sirius traced his fingers along the line of Remus’ jaw and felt hot breath ghost over his fingers. “It’s not true. I see your scars. But I love you despite them—because of them even. I see them because they are you… if you’re hiding it from me because you’re ashamed of it, then you don’t need to be. I’m not scared of it. You don’t have to hide anything from me, Remus.”

The next thing Sirius knew, he was being tugged down next to Remus to meet him in a heady kiss. Sirius twisted, smiling into the kiss and letting it go languid and honey-soft. He cupped his fingers to Remus’ face and felt Remus’ breath on his bottom lip.

“Okay.” Remus said as he pulled back from their kiss. He lifted his arms to allow Sirius to catch the hem of his shirt and ease it off over his head. With a tight little sigh he rolled back onto his stomach and folded his arms under his head.

Sirius settled back again, straddling Remus’ hips, and allowed himself to look properly. Remus’ back was all sharp, shifting planes of muscle, lightly golden and alive, topped with a crown of scars. “Fuck me… you’re so gorgeous, Moons… so fucking stunning…”

Remus’ disbelieving little laugh sounded tight and fake but Sirius swallowed back some quip in reply, instead letting his hands raze over Remus’ back. He worked his way up, slowly but surely. The first time his fingertips met the edge of that ragged-scarred moon Remus jerked so violently Sirius gasped in response and drew his hands back like he’d been burnt.

“I don’t—don’t want to hurt you,” Sirius hurried out.

“You’re not.” Remus took a deep breath that Sirius watched shudder in and out of his lungs. “Just… never done this before.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

A pause, only slight. “No.”

“Sure?”

“Yes.” No pause this time.

“Okay… okay.” Sirius reached up to grasp Remus’ hand and squeeze reassuringly before he settled back and got back to work. The muscles of Remus’ shoulders were all iron-tight and wound so close Sirius wondered how he got anything done. The first few passes of his palms were tentative, learning the span of his back and the way it moved. The scar tissue of that moon was slick and textured, but not unpleasant. In fact, Sirius found himself wondering what it would taste like, what it would feel like under his mouth. He found himself almost holding his breath every so often, feeling like an archaeologist uncovering the greatest find of the century.

“Tell me if I hurt you,” Sirius whispered into the warmth of the cabin as he gently pressed and pushed at the tension knotting itself alongside Remus’ shoulder blades.

“I will…” Remus swallowed. “It feels good.”

Remus seemed to relax with that admission, and Sirius did too. He wasn’t in the habit of giving full massages, had never done something so in-depth, yet doing it to Remus, learning and discovering the treasuries of his body, was worth it. It felt like miracle-working, like something bonding the two of them together with scar tissue beneath Sirius’ hands. Remus felt _wonderful_. He was swathes and endless planes of muscled pale gold, the flex of his haunches sitting beneath Sirius’ arse, the soft little huffing noises sounding so much like those midnight-moonlight gasps of pleasure that Sirius had to bite his lip to stop a moan of his own from escaping.

He looked up after a while, gaze shifting from the skin beneath his hands, feeling rather pleased with the way Remus’ muscles were starting to turn pliant and releasing for him, to see Remus’ fists clenched tight in the pillow. His face was pressed into the pillow and Sirius immediately leant forward to brush away the curls from the edge of his face to peer at him.

“Hey…” Sirius took Remus’ hand and gently pulled it away from the pillow, pressing against his fingers to flex them and stretch them slightly. “This is meant to be relaxing… Moons… I can stop if you want…” He massaged gently at the meat of Remus’ palm and flexed his fingers.

Remus gave a little groan and tilted his head on the pillow to stare to the side, his gloriously amber eyes shining in the light. “No, I want to.”

Sirius smiled softly and, unable to stop himself from venturing down this path, slid Remus’ forefinger into his mouth, letting it press gently against his tongue. His fingers pressed into Remus’ palm to push away the tension there.

Remus made a soft little noise at the back of his throat, twisting a little more to pin Sirius with a look. He didn’t pull his hand back from Sirius’ grasp, but groaned when Sirius sucked lightly on his finger. Sirius blinked down at him, smiling, before pulling back and kissing a path over his palm, over the scarification at his wrist—it tasted just like Remus’ skin but slick and silver—past the tenderness of his veins and up through the cityscapes to the soft, sensitive ditch of his elbow. Sirius unfurled a puff of hot breath and Remus gave a whole body shudder, quickly chased by a moan when Sirius coiled his tongue over the same spot.

Beneath Sirius’ thighs, Remus’ hips flexed and shifted and Sirius wondered if he was searching for friction against a burgeoning erection. The thought only fanned the flames that had been simmering all the while he had been worshipping Remus’ skin. It was like a switch had been flipped and Sirius hadn’t planned for this to descend into sex but now Remus was near writhing beneath him and he was desperate for _something_ , for Remus, for the love between them.

“God, fuck, Sirius,” Remus groaned, turning his head slightly as Sirius kissed a path up his bicep and sank his teeth into the ball of Remus’ shoulder joint. Remus’ hips shifted again and this time Sirius pressed back against them, his own erection tenting the front of his pyjamas and pressing against the small of Remus’ back for the way he was leant forwards. “I’m so fucking turned on.” Remus’ voice was breathy, filled with wonder and disbelief.

Sirius sucked a reddening mark on the angle of Remus’ shoulder, sharp beneath the blade and Remus hissed a breath and lifted back towards his mouth.

“Moons.” Sirius tongued at the livid mark. Without even thinking he sank against Remus’ back, pressed the black dog into Remus’ moon scar and Remus just pressed back against him, gasping softly. “I wanna be inside you so bad.”

Remus’ breath shuddered and at once Sirius clenched his eyes shut, realising he might’ve said the wrong thing. They hadn’t fucked like that since the Potters’, and frankly, Sirius didn’t think either of them missed it—they had great sex every other way and sometimes that just felt like far too much effort when a blowjob was mind-blowing—but there was something about seeing Remus laid out beneath him, muscles quivering beneath him, imagining sinking into the tight warmth of his body and letting Remus writhe against him.

“I haven’t…” Remus turned his face into the pillow and Sirius pressed his mouth to the top of Remus’ shoulder. “Never done that.” Sirius felt his mouth go dry. He opened it to ask a question when Remus answered with the same phrase. “Ever.”

Sirius blinked rapidly, frowning at the sudden new information. Remus hadn’t ever bottomed? It made sense, though. Society conditioned them to believe that bottoming meant vulnerability, meant submission, meant handing over the reigns to someone else. Sirius didn’t want to think about the only other person Remus had been vulnerable with else it would make all this simmering arousal sink away to burning-bright anger. No, this was about Sirius and Remus. It had taken Sirius all his years until that night at the Potters to realise that society was _wrong_ , that it wasn’t about positions and taking and receiving, it was about Sirius and Remus and their togetherness. If he needed to take Remus’ hand and show him the way, Sirius would do it. If he needed to wait, that was fine. If it wasn’t something they _ever_ did, as much as Sirius wanted it right now, then he would be fine with it.

Sirius didn’t _care_ either way. He would _love_ to be inside Remus, fulfilling the fantasy at the back of his mind—from the birthday party, that first errant thought—of all of Remus’ long lengths laid out beneath him, knowing it was Sirius’ cock inside him making him moan… But if Remus said no, then Sirius would urge him onto his back and take Remus’ cock into his mouth instead. It didn’t _matter_. Sirius just wanted closeness. He wanted Remus to feel loved and adored, wanted the other man to know Sirius idolised every single bit of him. Sirius kissed Remus’ shoulder. “Do you want to?”

Remus’ reply came on a sharp inhale. “I want _you_.”

“I don’t wanna force you Moony. I just want to love you. However you’ll let me. I won’t do anything until you want me to, until you _ask me to_.”

Remus’ mouth quirked in profile, the sharpness of his brow, the line of his nose, the bow of his lip with the ring nestled beneath. He pressed onto one hand, twisting to look at Sirius, who was still straddling his waist—he hadn’t thought of moving away from him, pressed closed and not wanting to give it up—and bit his bottom lip. Sirius counted three deep, shaking breaths in and out of Remus’ lungs in this close, heated silence—Sirius was still stubbornly hard despite their conversation and his own breathing was short, sharp and shallow—before Remus spoke. “I’m asking you to.”

Sirius’ insides hurt for the thread of vulnerability woven through Remus’ voice in those words. He kissed open mouthed warm spots onto Remus’ shoulder. “I love you _so much_.” Sirius leant up as Remus turned his head and met him for a tender kiss, the slow part and pass of their lips together, breath blooming between them.

Remus pulled back with a gasp. “I love you.”

Sirius kept a hand on Remus’ waist as he reached forward to snag the lube out of his wash-bag, dropping it on the bed beside him when he sat back to straddle Remus’ hips. He could feel the tension—he could _see_ it—down the gorgeous lengths of Remus’ back and the tightness of his chest. Sirius ran his hands up and down the curve of Remus’ back before plucking at the waistband of his pyjamas. “Can I take these off?”

“Yeah.” Remus sounded shaky but he lifted his hips and allowed Sirius to pull off his pyjama bottoms, shoving them out of the way. When Sirius turned back the breath caught in his throat at just how bloody stunning Remus Lupin was stretched out beneath him. The moon scar shifted and shone with the afternoon light and Sirius was once again struck with the urge to taste it.

“God Moons… you’re so stunning.” Sirius traced the tip of his finger down the pinkish scar on Remus’ thigh that he’d seen disappear beneath his clothes earlier. He’d felt it so many times before, beneath his fingers clutching at Remus’ skin as they ground together and Remus loomed over him with a glittering smile.

Remus gave a sharp little sigh and crossed his arms beneath his head again. He was shivering slightly, but it wasn’t from the cold, not with how warm the room was. Sirius kneaded at the swell of Remus’ arse, feeling the tension flit up and down his body. “If you want me to stop,” he murmured, “just say.”

Remus shook his head, pressing his cheek into the pillows. “I trust you.” He swallowed. “I trust you.”

Sirius slicked his fingers, his free hand stroking in loving sweeps over Remus’ lower back. The weight and trust of the moment, of Remus laying himself bare before Sirius, on his stomach, face in the pillows, letting Sirius guide him unseeing through this uncharted territory, pressed onto Sirius’ shoulders. But he would take the weight gladly.

The first press of his finger against Remus’ arse had the other man inhaling sharply. Sirius slowed but he knew that this always felt a little strange at first, no matter what he did. He pressed a kiss to the dip of Remus’ spine and pressed his finger gently in, in, in. Remus felt hot and tight and moaned softly at the contact, his hips pressing upwards. Sirius pressed deeper, crooking his finger and finding Remus’ prostate, once, twice, three times in quick succession and Remus’ body seemed to relax, the swathes of pleasure passing over him to soften the discomfort with a dark, low moan at the back of his throat.

“Oh my God, Rem… you feel so good, you _look_ so good,” Sirius breathed, gasping when Remus pushed back against his hand and lifted onto his knees a little.

“Yeah… _fuck_.”

Sirius took his time; not to tease Remus but to draw his pleasure along, to make sure he felt what Sirius did that night at the Potters, the two of them so entwined it felt impossible to separate their component parts, as if they somehow shared the same bloodstream, the same bones and narrow and soft, pink places, the same spaces between their cells, their atoms.

Remus was up on his hands and knees, head hanging between his arms, when Sirius pressed two fingers into him, working him open with gentle, reverent presses and pulls. Sirius had his lip caught between his teeth to stifle his own moans at the way Remus was pushing back against him ever so slightly, but Remus didn't bother trying to quiet the shorn off moans wicking out of his panting mouth. Sirius’ own erection was pushing against the waistband of his pyjamas, the quiet hum at the back of his brain insisting he find his way hilt-deep into Remus right now.

“Oh shit, Pads,” Remus gasped, turning to press his cheek into his own shoulder. Sirius half-wished he could see Remus’ face but there was something in him that wanted Remus’ back, his shoulders, his _scar,_ as if it might be too much with eye-contact, as if everything might fall apart and the forces holding their beings together might spin them out into the universe, back to component parts, if they looked each other in the eye right now.

“Yeah?” Sirius asked, voice shorn as he twisted his wrist and pressed at Remus’ prostate.

“Yes,” came Remus’ hissed reply, sinking onto his forearms with a particularly virulent shudder as Sirius withdrew his fingers and shucked off his own clothes.

_Shit,_ Sirius’ fingers were shaking on the cap of the lube, anticipation, excitement, nerves, the weight of trust on his shoulders, Remus’ love like an electrical current coursing through him. He knelt up and slicked his own cock, shuddering with everything pass of his own hand—goddamn, he wasn't going to last long.

“I love you,” Sirius reaffirmed, kneeling up against the tight line of Remus’ thighs and, after a pause, pressing the tip of his cock, slowly, softly, gently, into him.

“Sirius, _fuck_.” Remus pushed back against him, pressing back from his hands, sinking his weight over his thighs in a silent bid for _more_. His back shuddered and shifted beneath Sirius and made Sirius’ head spin with loveliness.

Sirius eased himself forward, nudging gently, forward, in, deeper. _Remus_. “Okay?” he choked out, one hand on Remus’ hip, the other rubbing at his lower back.

“Yeah. Oh, _fuck_ , Pads. I— _ah!”_ Remus moaned sharply as Sirius pressed forward, his hips slotting against the backs of Remus’ thighs, fully-seated, surrounded by him, enveloped, engulfed.

“Holy fuck, you alright?” Sirius shuddered, relishing in the tight heat of Remus’ body, dropping his chin to his chest.

“Yeah, oh my God, move, Pads, please.”

Sirius could do nothing but obey, rocking his hips slowly, back and forth, the warm slide and pull of Remus’ body around him, Remus groaning beneath him. After a breath, two, maybe three, he couldn’t keep count, Sirius folded forward, pressed his chest against Remus’ back, and pressed his face against Remus’ moon scar, his mouth in a gasping kiss.

Remus made a noise like the very threads of him were being gently unraveled, pulled apart at the seams. A sharp, dark, desperate thing that tore from his throat and resonated in the warm air around them, almost a sob, an inhale and exhale all at once, the sounds of masonry falling from long-standing walls. He reached back and grasped blindly for Sirius, who reached up and laced their fingers, setting them back down on the covers, gripping Remus’ hand; he’d always hold on for him, always hold out, reaching for him through time and distance and everything that could try to separate them but wouldn’t succeed.

Sirius’ hair hung down around his face, swirling over Remus’ shoulders, as he rocked his hips back and forth, not wanting to pull out more than necessary, not wanting to move an inch from Remus and the haven of his body and the feel of his scar beneath Sirius’ mouth like acceptance. He pressed his mouth to the circular edge of it, rubbed his nose and his cheek across it, slick and silvered, warm with sweat and skin. Sirius hoped his actions would speak for him because he couldn’t find the words. He hoped his mouth on Remus’ scar, the seat of his worries, all his trauma and pain, said _let me hold you, let me help you, let me float with you, together, always together, just me and you. I’ve got you, let me love you, every fucking bit of you._

Sirius realised Remus was shaking beneath him, shoulders shuddering, thighs shivering, his breath in long, deep, desperate gasps. Sirius kissed across Remus’ shoulders, mapping the skin and the bones and every space between with his mouth. He wanted this uncharted territory burned into his memory forever like it was burnt into Remus’ skin, the two of them fiery votive offerings of flesh and blood and all the things that made up humanity like beauty and pain and love, sent up to divinity on smoke and ash and the rising hot air of a cabin in the middle of nowhere and just the two of them, just _Sirius and Remus._

Up they climbed, up towards pleasure and ecstasy and all the unnamed things they couldn’t find words for, Sirius pressed to Remus’ back and mouthing _I love you, I love you_ between his shoulder blades, Remus gasping and moaning with every rocking, slow, pressing fuck of their hips together.

“Sirius,” Remus gasped, his fingers white-knuckled around Sirius’, silver scars and painted skin. His breath hitched at every movement of Sirius’ hips forward, his cock deep inside him, over his prostate. “Oh God… you’re—you’re _everything_.”

Sirius near sobbed at the note of wonder in Remus’ voice, at the shards of bright light through the otherwise grey afternoon, the shock of electricity and sharpness in the warm, pulsing heat of the cabin. He reached around with still-slick fingers and curled them around the base of Remus’ cock.

Remus made a low, wounded noise, tension snapping and shivering through the length of his spine, down the backs of his thighs, pressed tight against Sirius’ hips. Sirius stroked over him with the same familiar, languid adoration he touched Remus usually, as if he were made of gold and diamonds and threaded silver and metal, precious beyond it all, knowing every little thing he liked, knowing how to take him apart.

It didn’t take long; Remus pressing back into their thrusts, the circle of Sirius’ fist around him, twisting in delicious tandem. Remus came with a soft gasp, almost a sob, spilling hot and rich into Sirius’ hand. Sirius coaxed him through it even as his body tightened and clenched around Sirius, impossibly tight and hot and drawing him in, in, in, like atoms drawn back together, spaces between cells compressing, together, together, together.

“Oh— _fuck_.” Sirius’ hips bucked of their own accord, snapping forwards to the sound of Remus’ gasping breaths, the pulsing of his body around Sirius’ cock, come dripping from his fingers.

Remus sank onto his forearms, still shaking, his breath in unsteady, swirling mouthfuls, pressing back into Sirius with a soft litany of “Oh God, oh God, oh God…”

A handful of thrusts shoved Sirius over the precipice of completion, teetering for a moment in blissful pain before sinking into the sunlit honey of Remus and the tremors of orgasm wracking through him, vision white-bright and blurry, teeth sunk into his bottom lip, forehead pressed against Remus’ moon scar. Sirius’ hips stilled in shuddering liminal space, Remus sinking and stretching out before him, his back muscles quivering.

Sirius realised Remus’ moon scar was wet with his own tears around the same time he placed Remus’ little breaths as quiet sobs. Their hands were still linked, fingers laced, beneath Remus’ shoulder and Remus held on, his thumb feathering over Sirius’ knuckles, as Sirius covered him with his body.

“I love you,” Remus whispered, quiet beneath their rasping breaths.

Sirius shifted, pulling out and settling his weight to the side of Remus’ hips. Remus hissed softly and writhed against the duvet before he turned his face to stare at Sirius. His amber eyes were wide and bright, swimming with the remnants of tears collected against his lower lashes, but he was smiling muzzily, his lips quirking.

“Was it okay?” Sirius murmured, lifting one shaking hand to thumb at the tears on Remus’ lashes. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Remus shook his head, his curls twisting and clinging to the pillow. “No, no, you didn’t hurt me… It was… fuck, Pads.” Remus turned his head and kissed Sirius’ palm. “It was… amazing.”

Sirius couldn’t hold back his smile as Remus leant forward and kissed him softly, all breath and smiles, the cut of his lip ring, the hot press of his tongue stud. Sirius tangled his hand into Remus’ hair, thumb feathering over his temple, breathing into each other, catching breath from each other, oxygen and love and tears of release.

“It’s just you, you know,” Sirius whispered into the cell-spaces between their mouths, his tongue curling over Remus’ lip ring. “It’s just you, Moons. You forever, for all of this. Just you.”

Remus’ mouth quirked as he pulled back and pressed his cheek into the pillows, a flush high on his cheekbones. “That’s your orgasm talking,” he muttered.

Sirius laughed, pressing a kiss to the scarred mandala at Remus’ jaw. “Oh shut up.” Sirius nuzzled closer, burying his nose into the dip behind Remus’ ear, the coolness of the piercings there pressing into his cheek in reassurance, in something so _Remus_ he couldn’t imagine it being any different.

The sun was dipping lower, some untold amount of time later, when Remus turned and kissed Sirius on the temple. Sirius wasn’t sure if he had been dozing or just drifting on the pleasant waves of their ocean, lapping at his skin and washing every coherent thought from him. “I meant what I said. You’re _everything_ , Sirius.” He swallowed and shifted to run light-soft fingers down the angle of Sirius’ jaw to bury in silk-black strands. “No one’s ever touched my scar before… or kissed it.”

“It’s beautiful,” Sirius said immediately, tilting towards Remus’ touch. “It’s part of you. And I love you, so I love it.”

Remus was quiet for a moment. “I don’t know that I’ve let anyone before…”

“Love you?”

“I was going to say _touch my scar_ —” Remus swallowed— “but yeah… yeah, I guess that too.”

“I’m glad you let me.”

“Don’t know that I had a choice. You sort of blindsided me.”

“It took me by surprise too, believe me.” Sirius smiled and brushed at the curls hanging in Remus’ eyes. “To think I didn’t want Lily to hire you.”

Remus chuckled and shifted forward to press his mouth to Sirius’ shoulder. “You were a bit of a dick.”

Sirius snorted. “So were you.”

“We both were.” Remus shut his eyes for a moment. “Didn’t know what to do with all those feelings.”

“I couldn’t decide if I wanted to put your head through the wall or fuck you through it,” Sirius said on a laugh, remembering how viciously he had disliked Remus at first. Now, of course, it was easy to see that those whirlpools of feeling were actually just love and affection brewing under the skin in a way Sirius was intimately unfamiliar with back then. He knew those roiling tides now, drowned in them long ago and gave his mind, heart, body, _soul_ over to the depths of it.

Remus’ grin was lurid, the honey-amber pools of his eyes so wide Sirius could drown in them. “I suppose the second one, then.”

“Yeah. Second one sounds good.” Sirius kissed the tip of Remus’ nose and felt the blooming warmth in his chest increase ten-fold for the muzzy smile he received in return.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you as always to Purplechimera for the beta and cheerleading and being generally wonderful. Thank you to curlyremus for the endless repository of Matt Hit/Remus photos I can call on for the 'gram! and thank _you_ for reading!

 

The sun set and rose again.

Sirius woke to the soft mid-morning, naked and tangled in the sheets, to feel the bed dipping next to him and Remus’ cool feet against his calves.

“Mm, everything okay?” Sirius was surprised he had slept so deeply, especially with Remus getting up. Usually he hovered between the edges of sleeping, ready to wake at the smallest thing. That morning that wasn’t the case and he had stirred slowly instead of jumping to consciousness with his heart in his throat, fear bubbling, ready to run. In the mid-morning with Remus nudging back into bed, Sirius felt far from his fear.

“Yeah,” Remus whispered, pressing his mouth to Sirius’ jaw. He sounded a little shaky though and that roused Sirius to lift his head from the pillow and roll over to peer at him. “Phone call from the police.”

“Everything okay?” Sirius pushed up onto his elbow as Remus’ gaze flickered over him, his fingers filtering through the ends of Sirius’ unbound hair silk-sliding from his shoulder. Sirius ducked his head to kiss the jut of Remus’ shoulder.

“I guess? They haven’t found him yet… He’s not going to get out of the country they say, this time… reckon he’s in London…” Remus shrugged and pulled the duvet higher over his still naked form. “Wanted to know where I was, if I _needed_ anything.”

Sirius snorted and pressed his mouth to Remus’ shoulder again, nipping the skin softly. How ridiculous a question was that? Remus’ abuser appears back in town and turns up at his workplace, and after the police fail to catch up to him they ask Remus _what do you need?_

“So I said what I need is for them to do their jobs and arrest him so that I can breathe properly and get on with life.”

“Fucking right? They’ll get him… they’ll have to eventually.”

“Hope so…”

Sirius rolled onto his side to kiss the corner of Remus’ mouth. “You sleep alright?”

“Mmhmm. You were out cold when the phone rang. Not like you.”

“You clearly wore me out last night,” Sirius said with a smirk, trailing his fingers up Remus’ forearm, over the cityscapes of scarring he could wander through for eternity. “You okay? Not too… sore?” Sirius urged Remus onto his back, taking advantage of the waking-warmth and Remus’ still naked form, eager to distract him from the phone conversation with the police.

Remus chuckled and laid back, stretching out his limbs atop the duvet, tangling around his feet and setting him in glorious contrast, the morning light over him. The purple bloom on his shoulder was lurid and dark where Sirius had pressed his teeth the day before. “No, not too sore. You were gentle.”

“Mm, you deserve gentle.”

Sirius wanted to cover him in marks of affection, wanted to wrap him up, wanted to have all of Remus’ scar-crossed body committed to memory and marked as his, he wanted to tattoo him, kiss him dizzy, cover him in art like the most beautiful gallery. He wanted Remus to mark him too, purple marks beneath his tattoos in the shape of Remus’ mouth, wolves and moons to be on his body forever, to be pierced by Remus, scarred too, wound together on a joint vision quest to the ends of the earth where it would only be the two of them and nothing more. Remus took up every space between Sirius’ cells, bound to him in every way and Sirius was _sure_ they’d entered some kind of liminal space where they had known each other for years and not _months_. How had it only been months when Remus could look up at him like that and Sirius saw the world in amber eyes and felt the world within himself grow and grow when Remus smiled back at him with his threaded-metal mouth.

“You’re so stunning, Moony…” Sirius whispered, palming a hand over Remus’ stomach, gently rising and falling as the other man watched him with amber-bright sunlight-honey eyes. “I could look at you forever.”

Remus laughed and trailed his fingers up Sirius’ arm and across his shoulder, his thumb rubbing across Sirius’ collarbone. “Would like it if you did _more_ than look?”

Sirius snorted and dropped his chin to his chest, laughing at the look in Remus’ eyes, the smile playing across his lips. “Oh I suppose you’ve convinced me…” Sirius leant up to kiss Remus’ smiling, glittering mouth at the same time he wrapped his fingers around Remus’ cock, thumb stroking hot flesh and cool metal.

Remus groaned appreciatively against Sirius’ skin, nipped at his bottom lip, coiled his tongue into Sirius’ mouth. Sirius stretched his body against Remus’, splayed out with limbs pressed against Remus’, painted skin and threaded silver, his hand in long-slow, indulgent passes over Remus’ cock. Remus reached down to curl his own skilled, glorious fingers around Sirius’ own cock.

“Oh shit, Moons,” Sirius said, breaking the kiss on a gasp as his hips canted forward towards pleasure, towards Remus. This was his favourite thing, the two of them, face to face, noses nudging together, breath mingling, trading idle kisses, Remus’ fingers around his cock, Remus’ cock in his hand. Sirius would forfeit every other pleasure in the world—even Remus’ talented, piercing mouth around him, even the haven of his body clenching around Sirius’ cock—to keep this one, to keep Remus’ warm amber eyes staring into him as they stroked each other. This closeness, the humidity between them of shared kisses and moans and the way Remus’ knee pressed into Sirius’ thigh when they were tangled this close—on that blank space where the wolf would be soon enough.

“Christ, fuck—right there—” Remus’ free hand roamed up and down Sirius’ back, over the curve of his arse to press them closer.

Sirius panted into Remus’ mouth, stroked his tongue over Remus’ lip ring. “Yeah, yeah, shit, Moony.”

Sirius came first, pressing his face into the mandala at Remus’ jaw, gasping, hips pressing forward into Remus’ hand. Remus turned his head and kissed Sirius through the throes of his orgasm, stroking and twisting his beautiful fingers. Sirius kept up with him, twisting his own wrist, thumbing over the head of Remus’ cock even as he was shivering and shuddering under the force of his own pleasure. Remus’ fingers tangled in the hair behind Sirius’ ear as Sirius coaxed him along the same track, feeling warm and loose-limbed, feeling like dawn and dusk at the same time.

Remus’ orgasm shivered through his body on rapid hooves, his eyebrows pitching together like they always did, the moment of shattered vulnerability spreading over his features. Sirius hummed into his mouth, stroking him languidly as Remus moaned softly. They kissed until Sirius could feel his legs again and pulled apart smiling muzzily.

“God,” Remus said as Sirius leant over to snatch a towel from where one of them had strewn it the previous night. “I don’t think I’ll ever tire of doing that with you.”

Sirius smiled and wiped his hands before he passed the towel to Remus. “I hope not.”

 

“Are you two decent?” James said, opening one eye to squint at his phone screen as Sirius held his own phone between them on the sofa.

“Would we have answered the phone if we weren’t?” Remus asked, raising one eyebrow at James through the phone screen.

“To fuck with me? Probably.” James grinned and scrunched up his nose to push his glasses further up.

Sirius grinned at Remus and shrugged a shoulder. “Probably.”

“Are they naked?” Lily called from beyond the confines of the screen.

James’ eyes tracked what must’ve been her movements across the flat. “Nah, clothed, thank God.”

Lily sat down beside James and waved into the camera. “Hello strangers. How is it up there?”

“It’s good.” Remus smiled and put his arm around Sirius’ shoulders, leaning his head down. Sirius automatically tilted into his touch, instinctively pressed them together, like he couldn’t help but be brought in by Remus Lupin’s gravitational pull, celestial bodies bound only for each other. He slid his hand between Remus’ thighs for the warmth there and saw Remus smile wider in the tiny rectangle of their faces in the corner of the screen.

“You look… better, both of you,” Lily said, tucking her hair behind her ear. Sirius thought he could see all the tension sinking out of her.

“Yeah, it’s nice to be up here… What’s it like at home? Shop okay?” Sirius scrubbed a hand through his hair, still damp from their languid shared shower earlier. It had taken them so long to do anything, kissing with slow insouciance all throughout showering, dressing, cooking breakfast, like they couldn’t step back far enough from each other. Sirius didn’t _want_ to step back.

“Shop’s good,” James said, nodding reassuringly as Sirius raised a querying eyebrow. “Busy without you, but we’re managing. Flat is fine… quiet, weirdly quiet.” James grinned and theatrically leant closer to the camera. “We’ve been fucking everywhere and there’s no more marks on the chal—”

“Aw, Prongs, c’mon! That’s my sister!” Sirius cried, throwing his free hand up even as Remus collapsed into laughter against his upper arm.

Lily herself just grinned devilishly and shrugged her shoulders. “Well, whilst the cat’s away…”

“That’s my girl,” James exclaimed, wrapping his arm around Lily, still grinning inanely in that awful, ridiculous James F. Potter way that Sirius couldn’t quite believe he missed when they were apart.

“You're disgusting,” Sirius grumbled, and Remus only hooted louder with laughter.

“We thought,” Lily said once Remus had recovered from his fit of laughter and James had finished being obscenely proud, “you might want to come back soon.”

“We miss you.” James ruffled a hand through his hair before settling it back on Lily’s shoulder.

Sirius glanced sideways to Remus, taking a moment for the way the blue light of his phone illuminated Remus’ perfect profile. He watched for a moment as Remus bit at the black of his lip ring before glancing to Sirius. “We’ll talk about it today. And let you know?”

James’ eyes flickered between Sirius and Remus behind his glasses. “Sure. No pressure here. We just miss you.”

“You ever think,” Sirius started, grinning, “that one day, we might not live and work in each other’s pockets?”

Both Lily and James gasped, in perfect tandem, in a way that made Sirius know they were just made to be together. “Sirius Orion Black,” James said, “don’t you ever say that again. We will be middle-aged and boring and surrounded by kids and we’ll all still live together.”

“Surrounded by kids?!” Lily cried incredulously, turning to stare at James. “Are you having all these kids, are you?”

James held his hand up in surrender as Sirius and Remus collapsed into peels of laughter, pressed against each other, tumbling into each other. Once Lily had finishing tearing into James for proposing their legions of children that she would have to carry, the four said their goodbyes—James and Sirius kissing the screen like a pining long-distance couple—and hung up.

With a small sigh, Sirius sank into the sofa and Remus with it. He hadn’t quite realised how much he had missed James, Lily, the shop. He loved it there in the Highlands with Remus, locked away in a little cabin with the taste of Remus’ skin in his mouth, but he wanted London back. He wanted the Ubers and the din of the city outside the bedroom window, the wan light of the streetlamp illuminating Remus’ criss-crossed silver edges. He wanted London. But he wanted Remus to be happy, and _safe_.

“You miss it?” Remus murmured into the space behind Sirius’ ear, his arm around Sirius’ waist.

“Yeah… s’home, isn't it?” Sirius said, plucking at the hem of his shirt. “Only one I think I've ever had.”

From the corner of his eye Sirius saw Remus watching his hands, teeth scraping at his lip ring—Sirius was always surprised it hadn't tarnished with the way he always chewed it. “Me too. With the shop, Prongs, Lily… you.” He reached out and laced their fingers together.

Home. It was nearly there, with Remus in the cabin, but it was missing James, Lily, Marauder Ink, everything that made up Sirius’ carefully constructed—and rapidly solidifying—house of cards. The only problem with home was that it held Fenrir Greyback… Sirius had to hope the police would catch up with him soon, else home would lose all its structure and turn rotten, like old wood, like Grimmauld Place. He had to believe they could go back to normality. Sirius squeezed Remus’ hand, struck dumb for the moment surveying home and all the things it entailed.

“Shall we—” Remus cleared his throat— “shall we book a flight?”

“Yeah.” Sirius turned to look at Remus, study his face for the tells he had come to etch into his memory over the past few weeks. Remus looked relaxed, confident almost. He looked like the Remus Sirius knew from the smoking area of Heaven, from the piercing room of the shop, the one who wouldn't be cowed. Sirius had almost forgotten what that Remus looked like, faced with Greyback and all the horrors of Remus’ past that drew him back through time to become sixteen and terrified. _God_ , he was beautiful. “Yeah, lets.”

It only took them a moment to decide, with shuddering breaths and fingers white-knuckled, to book a flight the following afternoon. It would be quiet, it would be slow and sun-drenched and they would arrive back in London to the early evening, miss rush hour and find James and Lily at home for them. They sat and listened to music for a while, drinking tea and eating the fancy biscuits Sirius had picked up in the shop when they were wet-through from the rain and howling with laughter. In the afternoon Sirius dozed as Remus finished another jigsaw, and he thought of how happiness could be possible even after inhabiting the darkest places, how even the worst things could lead to unseen wings, to flying when you thought you would be falling.

 

The journey back to London was uneventful, and that was exactly what they needed. They packed their things together and dropped around their leftover food to Kevin so it wouldn’t go to waste. They took a taxi to the tiny airport and sat listening to music on Remus’ phone in Departures, with an earbud each, pitching together like two playing cards balancing against each other, trying not to flutter at the barest of breezes. The flight passed the same, uneventful, stale air and overpriced snacks, Remus’ silver-crossed fingers laced with Sirius’ tattoos. Sirius ordered an Uber in London as they came out of the airport and clutched the straps of his bag with his free hand.

_Landed. Getting an Uber back. See you at home? x_

Sirius tapped out a quick text to James as they strolled through Arrivals. When he didn’t get an immediate reply, he simply assumed James was caught up with a client. He’d either get back to it after, or Lily would swipe up his phone and reply in his stead. Everything was getting back to normal, he hoped.

Remus held onto Sirius’ hand as they waited by the kerb, his amber eyes flickering past everyone in the crowd. The change was obvious in him now they were back in the city. He looked tense and worried, his shoulders drawn so high that Sirius automatically wanted to let his fingers find the tension there and ease it out. Instead, he squeezed Remus’ hand.

“We’ll be fine.” Sirius’ voice sounded shaky in the thick London air but he willed it stronger and firmer. They had to be fine.

Remus nodded as they watched their Uber pull up to the kerb, not looking at Sirius. In the back seat of the car Sirius held onto Remus’ hand, uncaring for the look the Uber driver gave them in the rearview. Sirius chattered idly as the car crept along through London traffic, telling Remus of their time apprenticing with Minnie and Mad-Eye, as well as some awful client stories from year past. Remus’ answers were short and tight as he looked out of the window, his fingers wound with Sirius’.

Sirius wanted his boyfriend back. He wanted Remus back with him, feeling as if he’d left the real man in Aviemore, in the Potters’ cabin where they could smile and breathe. But they couldn’t stay there forever. Sirius would need to bring Remus back with him, keep him together and hold him here in London, wrap him up so nothing could hurt him. Sirius checked his phone again—still no reply from James. He would be done with clients by now, and it was strange to think of James in a situation without his phone.

Unwelcome, panic bubbled in Sirius’ throat. What if something had happened? When had he last spoken to James? Last night, after booking their flights. James had sounded fine via text, happy that they were coming home. Had there been an undercurrent of something there? What if something had gone wrong?

_Prongs?_

Then, a text to Lily just incase James’ phone was flat: _Hey Lils, we’re back in London. In an Uber. See you soon?_

Still nothing. Sirius shoved his phone in his pocket and tried to hide his shaky little exhale of worry. Remus, thankfully, just stared out of the window, unaware. If they got home and something had happened, then Sirius would just make sure Remus was okay. That was his first priority; hide Remus from everything that might ever deign to hurt him.

Sirius was chewing his ragged thumbnail as the Uber pulled into their street. It only took a moment for the blue lights of the police car to filter over Sirius’ vision, and beside him Remus made a sort of strangled voice.

“Er—alright if I drop you here, lads?” The Uber driver turned and peered at the duo, worry playing clear across his features.

Two police cars were sprawled across the road to block traffic. Right outside their flat.

Sirius’ heart was in his throat. “Uh—sure.”

Before he could say anything further, the car door opened and Remus was out, striding towards their flat. His jaw was clenching, his fingers shaking, his gait wobbly, but he was walking right towards their stairwell.

“Moons!” Sirius scrambled out of the car with a quick thanks to the Uber driver and jogged to catch up with him. He wanted to tell him to be careful, to just run in the opposite direction to put as much distance between them and whatever was going on. As Sirius grasped his hand, Remus blinked in rapid succession and seemed to come back to himself, slowing his pace a little.

“Pads… What if something’s happened?” He tightened his grip on Sirius’ fingers.

Sirius swallowed. “We’ll manage…” Sirius looked to the solitary police officer stood by the car, arms across their chest. “Want to wait here, ’til I find out?”

Remus’ amber eyes flickered across the street, to their building, up to their flat on the third floor. “No… No, I want to go see… Can’t do it by myself though.” He slid a look across to Sirius’, the early evening light playing over his profile, his bottom lip with the ring, his eyes gathering every bit of reflected light and turning them to honey. “Stay with me?”

Sirius gripped his hand tight. “Of course. Forever. Always.”

Remus nodded and started off down the street, towards the police car and the officer there. As they strode closer—Remus’ fingers shaking between Sirius’ but he would hold on, he would always hold on—the officer stepped up to meet them.

“Can I help you?”

Sirius glanced to Remus, who opened his mouth as if to say something but the words didn’t come. Sirius spoke instead, clearing his throat through the nerves gathering there like the threads of a spiderweb, silver-light but strong. “We live in that building. Just coming home and thought something—something might have happened…” Sirius scrubbed his free hand through his hair. He could hardly say _my boyfriend’s abuser is back in town and I’m paranoid he’s here_ without sounding like he needed locked up somewhere.

The officer seemed nonplussed. “What flat are you in?”

“3A,” Remus said, finding his voice somewhere between the way his hand was going clammy against Sirius’ palm and his foot was tapping against the asphalt.

An unreadable expression flittered across the officer’s face and Sirius’ stomach dropped to his feet. Remus’ fingers clenched against his and Sirius tightened his grip to try and hold him up lest the other man’s knees buckled.

Before the officer could reply, the door to the stairwell banged open and a trio of bodies came onto the street. Flanked by two police officers—who thankfully seemed in control of the situation—stood Fenrir Greyback, his arms wrenched behind his back, his chin tilted up defiantly.

Remus tensed up beside him. Sirius could feel the tension shooting up his limbs and heard the punched-out exhale that dropped from his lips. Sirius tugged on his hand, hoping his own knees wouldn’t give out as he tried to pull Remus away from the situation.

“Rem, come on, _please_ —”

But then Greyback saw Remus—who had been watching him—and his grin sharpened and solidified. He went through the motions of trying to shrug both of the police officers off, but they kept a grip on him. Instead, he ran his tongue across his teeth and grinned at Remus, only Remus, as the police officers lead him over the car he and Sirius were stood at.

“ _Remus_ —” Sirius breathed, watching Remus, waiting for everything to fall down but Remus was still stood tall.

“Sir, perhaps you’d better—” the police officer stepped in front of them, gesturing back with his palm.

Remus shook his head, staring at Greyback. Time seemed to slow down as Sirius stared at Remus. His jaw was quivering but he had it clenched tight, the muscle near his temple jumping. His eyes were bright and warm and held only a kernel of the fear Sirius remembered from that day in the shop. “No, can I—just give me a moment?”

Sirius’ heart was pounding. He wanted to rewind the day entirely and save Remus from this all. What had happened? Where were Lily and James? Were they okay? Why was Greyback here? Thank Christ they had gone to Scotland…

“Hello, little one.” Greyback was grinning, despite his current predicament, hauled between two police officers. He was only a few feet away, a police officer or two between them but it felt like Greyback was _right there_ again. In his mind’s eye, like his nightmares, Sirius saw Greyback reach for Remus’ throat. But here, waking, in reality, he was held tight.

Remus’ face was an implacable mask. “Fenrir.”

It was easy to see the look of shock on Greyback’s feral features. He had expected Remus to be quivering and terrified. So had Sirius. But Remus’ voice was relatively firm and he was standing straight with his hand clasped in Sirius’. Sirius swallowed and tried to be the pillar of strength and reassurance the other man needed.

Greyback looked between them, his grin still lewd and lascivious. “Your guard dog won’t try and bite me this time?”

Sirius bit back a scoff. He tried to focus on the indignation he felt welling in his chest—he would quite like to rip the man to shreds, but it was inadvisable in the presence of three police officers—rather than the fear that Greyback had brought with him into Sirius’ subconscious. Remus’ fingers were quivering but Sirius held on tight.

“No. I don’t need him to.” Remus’ voice was tight and sharp and Sirius wanted to save him from everything but here was Remus, standing up to the man who had ripped his life to shreds a decade ago. “You have nothing over me. Not now.”

For a moment, Greyback was still, one eyebrow slowly rising over his sun-streaked forehead. Then anger clouded his features and darkened his eyes. He wanted Remus to be terrified, Sirius realised, and now Remus _wasn’t_ , he was unhappy. With a snarl ripping from his curled lips, Greyback lunged for Remus.

Remus flinched and Sirius was ready to throw himself between the two but before he could the police officers hauled Greyback away from Remus and towards the car. Greyback pulled against the two restraining him, a growl rending from his throat as he resisted, his wild eyes pressing into Remus. Instinctively, Sirius tried to put himself between them, his heart pounding and racing and screaming, but Remus wouldn’t let him.

After a moment or two of a struggle, the two officers strong-armed Greyback into the car. His shouts echoed even when the door slammed shut. The air fell silent as the car drew away and Sirius counted two wracking, shuddering breaths rattling in and out of his lungs before Remus made a sort of choked noise and his weight buckled against Sirius.

“I got you, I got you,” Sirius croaked out, his arms wrapping around Remus, shaking himself. He could scarcely believe Remus had stood up to him like that. “Fucking hell, I’m so proud of you Moons. I got you, I got you.”

Remus buried his face into Sirius’ hair, holding tight, fingers clenching at Sirius’ shirt. “Fuck—fuck, fuck fuck, what was I thinking? Oh fuck, did I just do that? Fuck… fuck fuck fuck. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh _fuck_. Oh Christ… fuck.” He pressed a shaking hand to the nape of Sirius’ neck, through the tendrils of hair escaping the bun his inky hair was scraped up into. Sirius felt hot tears streaking down the side of his neck between Remus’ shuddering exhalations. “Couldn’t— _fuck_ , couldn’t have done it with—without you. Fuck, I’m gonna be sick.”

Sirius pulled away, staring at Remus’ pale, drawn features. He rubbed a hand over Remus’ side, stepping back a little to give him a moment to breathe. Beside him, the third police officer cleared his throat.

“We’ll need to interview you both. Your flatmates are speaking to my colleagues already. I’ll escort you up, if you’d follow me.” _Lily and James._ _Were they okay?_ Greyback was here, and if they got hurt then Sirius didn’t know what he would do.

Sirius glanced back to Remus, pale but not about to be sick in the next thirty seconds by the looks of it. “Okay?” He murmured to Remus. Remus rubbed a shaky hand over his face but let the officer lead the way into their stairwell and up to their flat where the door lay ajar. Sirius was relieved to see the door wasn’t _broken_ , and that assuaged some of his fears that James and Lily had gotten caught up with it all.

Sirius stepped through the hallway with Remus close to his side and all the breath left his body in a grateful _whoosh_ as he saw James and Lily perched on the edge of the sofa in conversation with another two officers.

“Sirius!” James leapt from the sofa and crossed the distance between them in three quick strides. One of the officers made to say something, but nothing would stop James in that moment, pulling Sirius into a hug. “Are you alright? You’re here. Fuck, are both of you okay?”

Sirius scoffed and hugged his brother back tightly. “Fuck that. What happened? Are _you_ okay?” He broke away after a moment and gave James a once-over look before peering over at Lily. They both _looked_ okay. “What happened?”

Remus stood, leaning against the arm of the sofa, whilst Sirius nestled into the corner. James put a hand on Sirius’ foot and Lily put her hand on James’ knee. It took the officers a while to explain. James and Lily, apparently, had come home from work to find Greyback in the stairwell. Remus inhaled sharply at that and Sirius reached up to take his hand and press their fingers together. He could feel Remus shaking and he tried to hold onto his own consciousness as it threatened to slip away to that place of fear where he always wanted to hide.

_Greyback is gone now_ , Sirius reminded himself on a shuddering breath. _They caught him and he’ll be locked up and he won’t be able to get Remus ever again._ Like anything that spiked his fear, today had wound together with the Orion in his mind, the _thwack_ of the fire poker. He blinked hard to remind his brain he was here and it was _okay_.

Somehow, they had managed to keep Greyback in the stairwell—the officers smoothed over that, for which Sirius was grateful. He didn’t want to think about his family facing off against that monster. The police arrived very quickly, according to James, who had sensed Sirius’ tensing up and tried to placate his brother. There was a brief scuffle, apparently, and then Greyback was hauled out to the car where Sirius and Remus saw him.

Remus, at the officer’s prompting, told them what Greyback had said and how he had lunged for Remus. Sirius blinked and saw the scene behind his eyelids, where it would stay until he could convince his brain the danger had passed. He gripped Remus’ hand tighter.

The officers asked some more questions and Sirius heard his own voice answer in robotic monotone, tired and desperate now to just have his family back to normal. The officers left after a time, with assurances that they would keep everyone up to date. As they were leaving, the older one, with weary-wise eyes, gripped Remus by the arm and said, “We’ll make sure he doesn’t see the sun again, lad. Don’t you worry.”

Lily made tea and James found biscuits and crisps in the cupboard whilst Remus curled up on the end of the sofa. Sirius sat next to him, hand on his shoulder, circling his thumb over the skin as his chest gently rose and fell. They sat in comfortable but exhausted silence, drinking tea and licking crumbs from their fingers. When Lily started dozing on James’ shoulder he nudged her softly and sent her through to bed.

Sirius coaxed Remus awake and did the same, sharing a grateful moment with James in the hallway when his brother clasped his arm and gave him a look that said _glad to have you back, Pads_ through all their years.

In the bedroom, the moon-slanted, wan with lamplight amalgamation of their parts, their togetherness and their love, Remus had crawled into bed. The picture he painted—legs tangled in the sheets, one arm thrown atop his pillow where the silver-white skyscrapers of his scarification climbed his forearm, his beautiful profile illuminated in silver—would never fail to take Sirius’ breath away. _This is it_ , he thought as he disrobed and crawled into bed next to Remus. _This is me, until the end of time, crossing oceans for this man and hoping we both know how to swim_.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some slight trigger warnings here, darlings. Sirius' dream (the italics paragraphs) detail injuries and blood, it's safe to come back after the italics. Sirius also talks in detail with James after hours at the shop about the experience of getting tattooed, I think this might be uncomfortable to read if you do not like needles? It's safe to come back after Sirius says "It's perfect, Prongs." Look after yourselves.

 

Normality; the state of being usual, typical, or expected.

The police officers had said things would return to normal, now Greyback had been arrested. They said he would likely serve his entire sentence for the charges from a decade ago, and then there were the stalking charges and the fight at the shop. Of course, Sirius was the one to initiate that, but from what Kingsley said to James, he was pretty confident the _mitigating circumstances_ would excuse him from anything serious. So they should be returning to normal.

But what happened when feeling as if the world might fall down _was_ normality? It had been weeks since Greyback had first appeared at the shop, since Remus had fallen apart and Sirius had been trying to hold him together. It had been weeks since they had ran to Scotland and hidden away for days, trying to pretend that the world wasn’t shifting and spinning around them. So why weren’t they back to _normal_ yet?

Sirius still woke in the early morning half-light to see Remus with his face buried in his pillow, to feel his fingers biting into Sirius’ arm with a grip that said _please don’t leave, please don’t leave_. Remus still flinched every time the bell above the door in the shop sounded. Everyone was back at work now, working hard to catch up with everything, as well as prepare for the imminent Halloween party. Slowly, it seemed as if the whole shop was breathing a sigh of relief. The longer the days ran by, slowly, crawling sometimes, and sometimes over in the blink of an eye, the more it sank in that Greyback wasn’t going to turn up at the door.

Now, Sirius’ nightmares contained Greyback too, his yellow teeth bared, blood down his chin. Sometimes, he would sit at the desk whilst Orion beat Sirius with the fire poker on the study carpet, and sometimes, he would be at the shop, in Remus’ piercing room, backing him into a corner, not touching him but the fear in the room would be so palpable Sirius would come awake with a scream and grasp frantically for Remus to make sure he was _here_. He was always there. Sometimes awake himself, with wide nightmare-brimmed eyes, and sometimes asleep, still reaching for Sirius in their ocean.

The first time an official looking letter landed on the doorstep, Remus didn’t touch it for hours and Sirius came out of the shower that evening to find Remus staring at it, turning it over between the tips of his fingers. Together they had opened it and found a date to go to the police station for another interview and hearing.

At the door to the police station, Sirius caught Remus by the arm and cupped his jaw to bring him in for a soft, feather-light and tender kiss. “I’ll be right out here waiting for you, okay? Are you sure you don’t want me to come in?”

Remus shook his head. “No. I need to do this… I don’t think I’ll see him, anyway.” Remus brushed the tips of his fingers over Sirius’ jawline and down the tendons of his neck. “I’ll see you out here?”

“Yeah.” Sirius met Remus for a kiss again, fighting the odd urge to grasp his arm and refuse to let him go. Sirius didn’t want Remus to walk into a place that cold and unfeeling. Sirius wanted to keep him safe. Still, he let Remus walk through those doors and let out a shaky breath as he disappeared into the corridors beyond. The officer had explained it almost as a refresher, to go over everything that had happened from Remus’ point of view to help with the sentencing.

Luckily, there was a coffee shop opposite the police station and Sirius sequestered himself there with his sketchbook and a flat white. He could see the entrance of the station from there, and was ready to run over whenever he needed to. In his sketchbook, Sirius cleaned up the wolf sketch he had been working on recently in preparation for the next day, when James would tattoo it onto Sirius’ thigh. It was easy to lose himself in the pages of his sketchbook, with graphite-smudged fingers and the lingering taste of coffee on his lips. Sirius had missed tattooing immensely whilst he and Remus were in Scotland, and he was so glad to be back.

Once he had finished the wolf sketch, Sirius flipped forward a few pages and began doodling some tattoo flash ideas. He and Dorcas had come up with the idea to make temporary tattoos with some Marauder Ink designs, and they could give some to the teenagers who stayed at their charity space, and they could probably sell them. Apparently, Sirius hadn’t realised, the temporary tattoo market wasn’t just for children nowadays, and there were adults who wanted them to try out looks or similar. Sirius didn’t get that; if he wanted something tattooed, he got it.

“Sirius?”

Sirius’ head snapped up from his sketchbook to see a woman standing next to his table, a reusable coffee cup in her hand. Her black hair was elegantly coiffed and she was wearing a black suit with sharply tailored trousers and a crisp white shirt. It was easy to see the resemblance between them, she was like looking in a mirror in many ways. “Holy shit, Andi?”

The woman nodded her head, bright green eyes wide. “Yeah, God, how are you doing?”

“Er…” Sirius opened and closed his mouth a little. He wasn’t sure whether he should stand up and greet his cousin properly, or offer her a seat. Sirius wasn’t in the habit of seeing his family members in coffee shops. “Good. I’m okay. How are you? How’s Ted? You guys have a daughter, right?”

Andi nodded, leaning her hip into the pillar that Sirius’ table was pushed against. “Yeah, Nymphadora. She’s a handful but she’s great. I haven’t heard from you for a while. Last I heard it was May and my darling sisters had trashed your party. Keeping your head low?”

“Yeah,” Sirius said, managing a chuckle. The birthday party still lingered in the back of Sirius’ mind, wound together with the disappointment of his family, the embarrassment of it all, confronted with Bella and Evan Rosier after years. “Yeah, something like that. I don’t… don’t tend to try and keep up with them. I’m glad you left though.”

“Sirius, you couldn’t _keep_ me in that place for anything in the world.” Andi sipped her coffee. “There is no way that kind of environment is healthy, and no mother would try to keep her daughter from the things that made her happy. Running out to marry Ted was the best decision of my life.”

For some reason, hearing someone else say how thoroughly toxic his home life was made Sirius’ stomach drop. Someone who had been in the same situation, someone who knew how oppressive the Black family were, how it was their way or the highway. One of two other people Sirius knew to have taken the highway.

“And then, when I heard you’d left too… Good on you, cous. I’m glad.” Andi’s face softened and she looked less like Aunt Druella and more like the young woman she was. “How’s your business going?”

Sirius smiled, shifting in his seat a little. Marauder Ink was something he could talk about forever. “Really well. We work hard and it’s rewarding. I wouldn’t want to be doing anything else.” Sirius set his pencil down and gestured to Andi’s impeccable suit. “What about you, what are you doing?”

“I’m an interpreter. I work with the courts and the police most of the time.” Andi gave a wry smile. “Had so many languages drilled into me by my darling mother when I was younger, thought it would frustrate her to no end to help out people in need with it.”

“I know what you mean,” Sirius said, nodding. “I’m sure Wally hates the fact the Black name is attached to something as _vulgar_ as tattooing. It’s the only reason I haven’t changed my name to Potter.”

Andi smiled. “You’re still as brash and stupid as you were at sixteen, cous.”

Sirius shrugged a shoulder. “It’s a coping mechanism,” he said drily, sipping his coffee.

“Right. Speaking of,” Andi said, glancing around the shop, “if you need anything, Sirius, get in touch with me, okay?” She fished a business card out of her pocket and set it on the table. “I know how toxic that place was… still is, I imagine. I’m glad you got out, but I know it sticks around.”

“Oh…” Sirius picked up the business card and tapped it against the table. “Yeah… yeah. Thanks Andi, I appreciate it. Same goes for you?”

“Yep.” Andi offered him a warm, genuine smile before glancing at her watch. “I gotta run. See you around, Sirius.” She waved briefly before weaving back through the tables and out of the door. Sirius watched her stride past the window, staring at the place where she left his line of sight for a moment or two.

Sirius felt a strange sort of uncomfortable bubbling in his stomach. On one hand, it was reassuring to see one of the only two other people he knew to have escaped the Blacks living and _thriving_. Andi looked put together, she had a great job and she seemed to know what she was doing. She had direction and purpose. Sirius felt like that kind of thing seemed possible with Andi there leading the way. If Sirius knew what his uncle Alphard was doing, he was sure he would feel the same. But there was also something in Sirius, that sinuous voice that sounded like Regulus or Orion, the same voice that knew only fear and terrified breathlessness, that said _you should be doing better_. Did Andi still have nightmares? Sirius thought not. True, Sirius didn’t know if Andi suffered the same kind of terrors at Raughton Lane as he did in Grimmauld Place. But it stung, to see how much he had fucked up, how much he had been fucked up by everything in life by seeing his counterpart doing so well.

Normality, in every sense of the word, seemed so far off.

After his coffee, the sun came out in the square in front of the police station. Sirius took his sketchbook there and tucked one leg beneath him to lean on his knee and doodle more tattoo flash. Every time the automatic doors slid open Sirius’ gaze snapped from the paper up to the doorway, to see if it were Remus, but it was not. Sirius spoke with James at lunchtime, briefly between clients, the noise of the shop in the background and Sirius wished he were there instead of waiting for this concrete behemoth to spit Remus back out when it had enough of him.

It was mid-afternoon when Remus emerged from the doors, blinking into the daylight like he had crawled from a sunken tomb, unearthed from a sarcophagi after a temporary death. Sirius was on his feet and in front of the other man in a flash, his hand going to Remus’ arm.

“Hey. Are you okay? How did it go?” Sirius’ hand slid up to Remus’ shoulder as he leant in to kiss the corner of Remus’ mouth, allowing him to sink into their embrace.

“Yeah,” Remus breathed, his head dropping into the perfect jigsaw shape at the crook of Sirius’ neck, where they fit together so flawlessly and his warm breath furnished that sliver of space between them. “I want to go home.”

Sirius could do nothing but oblige. They caught a taxi from the rank further up the road and Sirius held onto Remus’ hand the whole ride back, sinking into him to let Remus lean on his shoulder. He looked warm and worn in the afternoon light and Sirius felt like it was near-impossible to be any more in love than he was right then.

That evening, Sirius and Remus cooked dinner for the four, moving around each other in well-practised, rhythmic domesticity with James’ copy of _A Night at the Opera_ on the turntable and James and Lily on the sofa.

“It went alright?” Sirius murmured as he scraped chopped garlic into a pan.

Remus hummed, nodding his head as he stirred the garlic into the sauce. “Yeah. I don’t really know what they wanted. I had to basically retell them everything. It was… exhausting.”

Sirius put his hand on Remus’ back, tracing the ladder rungs of his spine with his thumb. “I bet… I’m proud of you for doing it.” After a moment, his fingers skated upwards to trace the shorn-off edge of the moon scar, tenderly, like brushing away a tear or turning the page of an inexplicably precious tome.

Remus’ little sigh lifted up from the base of his lungs and pulled him taut like a puppeteer. “Thank you for being there, when I came out.” He set the spoon down and glanced over his shoulder at Sirius, like an invitation and admittance all at once.

“Hell hounds couldn’t drag me away, Moony,” Sirius murmured, stepping close and pressing a kiss to the edge of the scar where his thumb had traced a moment earlier. Remus’ jumper covered the scar and the skin it adorned, silver plated and beautifully tarnished, but Sirius knew it was there. It was like Remus’ flaws, Remus’ criss-crossed shards, gorgeous and aflame, drew him like a magnet. “So proud of you.”

Later, at the edges of night when they stumbled from the sofa into their moon-drenched bedroom, Remus wrapped his arms around Sirius and drew him into a heady kiss. Sirius melted into him, palming hands through his hair, caressing the lotus petals at the back of his neck, and down across the planes of his shoulders. Remus’ hands moulded to Sirius’ waist, fingers splayed around the tattoos of his ribs, tracing ink that Remus knew, that Remus could bring to life with his miracle-working, vision-quest hands, like the piercing of a needle. Sirius pressed against him, pliant and demanding at once, sliding his thigh between Remus’ knees, licking into Remus’ silver, moon-drenched mouth like forever promises. Remus’ kisses were like electrical currents, able to kick-start Sirius’ insides and bring him back to life, tip him back from the precipice of unfeeling and the voices in his head. Remus grounded him, stuck fast to the floor under the weight of his heavy-light love.

Remus pulled back with a soft sigh, his eyes shut. “If I weren’t dead on my feet, Pads,” he said, one hand sliding up Sirius’ spine. “I’d have you in my mouth already. But I’m—” Right on cue, Remus yawned, a smile curving the edges of his lips once it had faded away— “I’m knackered.”

Sirius chuckled, leaning forward to kiss the lift of Remus’ mouth. “We have all the time in the world. Sleep, Moons.”

“You know I adore you. More than anything.” Remus smiled, lifting one hand up the arch of Sirius’ back to trace over the line of his jaw and around to the swell of his bottom lip.

“I know,” Sirius breathed, tilting in Remus’ touch the same way he leaned into him every time he wasnearby, their gravitational pull together like a hook through Sirius’ insides to try and reunite their atoms.

Sirius didn’t believe in soulmates but he had to understand there was more at work than a few months of being co-workers and the ever-lengthening time of their togetherness. There _had_ to be an explanation for how Sirius felt like his edges went ragged and blurry whenever he looked at Remus, like they were aching for something to flow into, like treacle or the way water will always find a route to the sea. Sirius was the river, roiling-white rapids and plowing the earth out in its way for the shortest, easiest way to sea-level. Remus was the ocean, calm at first, with hidden, wild-dark depths and the glint of the moonlight on its surface. Sirius would always find his way to him.

They fell into bed together, crawled under the covers and tangled their legs together. Remus pressed his face to Sirius’ neck and breathed life into the hawk at his throat. Sirius drifted away on the wings of sleep a short while later.

_The crows are here, they are circling above Sirius like some facsimile of vultures, carrion birds waiting for the dead. Sirius feels half dead, even though he’s strangely out of his body; it’s like he knows it will not last much longer under the weight of the house and the people in it. The idea of escaping these dark rooms does not even occur to him—he knows only here. Only pain, disappointment, fear._

_Sirius looks in the mirror, sees sunken cheeks and lank hair with the reddish sheen of blood through it, sees the darkness of bruises around one eye, sees the gash at his hairline oozing blood down the contours of his face, sees the bruises around his jaw, the split in his grey-hued lip. The mirror is sparkling clean, as is everything in this house but it’s all a veneer. The cleanliness here is a false sense of security. It is rotten, here. The crows caw and pull at Sirius’ hair, at the bare skin of his shoulders. He does not bat them away._

_One settles in front of him, flapping its wings in front of him and pecking at his face. Sirius just closes his eyes, he’s exhausted, can’t stand any more, just leaning against the porcelain sink that is tinged pink. When the crow moves, the reflection in the mirror is not his. The reflection has curly auburn hair and a scar across its nose and Sirius’ stomach drops._

_Remus looks like Sirius, with the black eye and the cut near his hairline that tilts his hair from auburn to red. The split in his lip is where his lip ring should be. He blinks, dazed and slow and Sirius recognises that dazed look, the blurred edges of concussion he knows so well. Sirius is so tired, he’s so so tired and he does not want this. He cannot even feel panic for how exhausted he is, with the iron-tang of blood in his mouth and the bone-deep weariness in his limbs. Remus cocks his head, then, with the speed of something preternatural and dream-woven, slams his fist against the mirror, his face contorted in anger. The mirror smashes outwards and falls in shards into the sink and all over Sirius and there’s more pain—_

Sirius woke with a sharp breath, like always, like almost every night caught in perpetuity, heart hammering. He scrambled to sit up against the headboard and tip his chin up to try and breath deep.The sobs came as Sirius stared at the ceiling, imagining it as the dark, oppressive ceiling of his bedroom in Grimmauld Place, antiqued and twisting. Remus stirred next to him, like they were both wound together in peculiar night-time waking, like he could feel the terror.

“Pads?” he mumbled, amber eyes fluttering behind lids as he pushed himself up onto one elbow.

Sirius made some kind of strangled noise in the back of his throat, shaking hands clenching in the covers. “S-sorry, sorry-y.”

Remus was sitting upright next to Sirius in a half-breath, watching Sirius with his amber eyes that burned and burned, gorgeous and molten-bright. “It’s okay, I’m here, Pads. You’re here, not there, not with them. I’ve got you.” Remus shifted onto his knees—his beautiful eyes were atop dark circles and Sirius was reminded that Remus had his own demons too—and held his hands up in front of Sirius, palms up, kneeling at a long-forgotten altar with offerings of affection and understanding.

Sirius shuddered, trying to push past the strange out-of-body tremors that plagued him in the witching hours, trying to reach out to the rest of his atoms hidden under scar-crossed silver. Remus knew Sirius’ nightmares so well now. After a long moment, Remus waiting, teeth on his lip ring, face pinched in concern he tried to hide, Sirius pressed his fingers against Remus’ palm and allowed him to pull him adrift, pull him into the sea, the warm salinity of it, cleansing, baptismal, _together_.

 

The routine of the shop brought reassurance and normality with it. It was easy to sink into the senses of the shop, the smell of their cleaning products and alcohol markers, the sound of tattoo machines, the taste of black coffee, the sight of Lily at the laptop booking in clients, James at the art desk, Remus on the sofa. The day had rhythm, those moments between clients to sit on the sofa and breathe over a cup of Lily’s peppermint tea and listen to _Doc and the Twins_ on the sound system.

Sirius had brought miracles to life beneath his tattooed fingers today, woven down that vision quest path into fairy rings in the forest of his artistry, the canopy thick and lush-green with inspiration. Even his nightmare of the day before, with the remnants of mirror shards clinging to the inside of his eyelids, seemed less weighty, seemed to press less onto his shoulders. The shop was beginning to sink back into its foundations, into its purpose as a safe space for all of them, whirring with comfort and warmth.

At the end of the day, Sirius caught Remus’ hand in the office and pulled him into a kiss. Sirius and James were staying late tonight to ink the wolf onto Sirius’ thigh—all in one session, so they could surprise Remus—and the knowledge that Sirius would return home with some part of the other man pressed upon him forever made him almost giddy with excitement. Remus circled his arms around Sirius’ waist, splaying his fingers over the small of Sirius’ back with the tail of the dragon twisting there, alive with breath.

Sirius licked into Remus’ mouth, tasted the metal and tipped their souls together to press, warm and wet into the haven of him. When he pulled back with a soft sigh, Sirius smiled. “See you at home later, yeah? I think we might be late.”

“What is James getting?” Remus hummed, his hands stroking over Sirius’ back, lifting up his shirt to press skin against skin.

“We’re working on his leg piece.” Sirius trailed his mouth over Remus’ jaw as he spoke, the knife line giving way to the mandala by his jaw, silver-slick. “A bit of mech, gears, cogs, clockwork.” Sirius had to lie to keep up the pretence—it was worth it.

“Sounds good,” Remus replied, his chest pressing against Sirius’, feeling the quiver of their shared breath and the want that Remus always seemed to stir beneath his skin. “Can’t wait to see it.”

For his own sanity, for the heat of his body and the sturdiness of them, Sirius stepped back, his fingers cupping Remus’ jaw. “Me neither. See you later, Moons.”

Remus kissed him again, brief and pressing but full of heat, before he smiled, brushing fingers through Sirius’ hair. “See you later, Pads. Love you.”

“You too.”

Lily and Remus left with goodbyes and waves and as soon as they did, Sirius locked the front door and went to James’ room, where he had already propped the fire escape open, put Queen on the speakers and cleaned down the space.

“You ready, Pads?” James said as Sirius stepped into the room and scraped his hair into a bun.

“More than. It’s going to look great.” Sirius shucked off his jeans, glad he’d remembered to bring a pair of loose shorts to wear afterwards. “Still reckon we’ll be able to do it in one?”

James nodded. “You know your tolerance Pads, I’ll be good to sit it if you are. Got everything?”

Sirius grabbed a packet of sweets from the counter and a fizzy drink before hopping up onto the bed. “Yeah. We’ll be fine. Take breaks if we need.”

James gave him a salute and began prepping the stencil.

The two brothers always fell into a specific kind of routine when they were tattooing. Sirius settled back against the bed and watched with pride as James applied the stencil. His own artwork sprung off of his pale skin, the space there perfectly moulded to the points of the wolf’s ears, the shaggy fur fading out into alabaster. Sirius slipped from the bed and studied it intently, turning this and that way before he shot his brother a grin and sat back down.

Being tattooed was always a different vision quest to tattooing, a different sort of miracle blooming. Sirius and James chatted idly whilst James worked away on Sirius’ thigh, the needle a hot, burning, soothing kind of sting against tender flesh. It had been too long since Sirius had been tattooed himself, hadn’t had anything important enough to pierce into flesh until the wolf came to him. He relished the endorphin-filled pain of bringing art to life through flesh and arteries.

After the third hour Sirius stretched his legs and James pressed his arms over his head. Sirius chewed on sweets and drank half his fizzy drink and admired the red-flushed outline of the wolf staring back at him, serene and warm.

Time drew on, the adrenaline-heat giving way to a sort of bubbling excitement to show Remus the tattoo. James shaded fur with the ease of a master of his craft, the blunt scratch of shading needles always easier that the sharp puncture of the black lines.

Eventually, with darkness pressing down outside, James wiped down Sirius’ thigh and sat back, brimming with contentment. He pushed his glasses onto his nose with the back of his hand. “Done. Go check it out before I wrap it up.”

Obliging, Sirius slid from the bed and looked in the mirror. He saw Remus and the wolf combined, the amber eyes and brown-auburn fur, wild and tender staring back at him. Sirius’ heart lodged in his throat and he felt tears in his eyes for a moment before swallowing them back. “It’s perfect, Prongs.”

 

It was near midnight when James and Sirius arrived home. The living room was in darkness and light was winnowing out from under the bedroom door. Sirius bade James goodnight and slipped in the bedroom. Remus was on the bed, his face bathed in the blue light of his phone.

“Hey you,” Remus said, lifting his eyes from the screen, his voice soft and warm.

“Hi Moons.” Sirius smiled. “I’m just going to the bathroom, and then I’ll be right in?”

“Sure.”

Sirius padded to the bathroom, peeled off the wrapping, and washed his tattoo perched on the edge of the bath, with tender fingers and the breath stealing in and out of his mouth like a thief, half whisked away in the night air.

“You’re in shorts,” Remus noted when Sirius went back into the bedroom, the light of the lamp casting him in half-warmth, half-silver.

“Mmhm.” Sirius crossed to the bed and perched on the edge, pulling his hair out of the bun. “Prongs didn’t get tattooed. I did.”

Remus’ brow rose, curiosity clear on his face as he sat forward and shifted closer. “Oh? What did you get? Let me see.”

Struck with a sudden nervousness, a sudden slamming fright that Remus would hate it, Sirius cleared his throat and shifted to pull the leg of his shorts up. He let his legs fall open to bare the curve of his thigh to Remus. Sirius couldn’t quite lift his gaze far enough up to meet Remus’ eyes, having to settle instead to watch the amber eyes of the wolf.

“Sirius…” Remus’ fingers traced the flushed edge of the tattoo where the fur bled out into Sirius’ skin. The moon atop its brow was cratered with light and dark in the singular fantastic way James seemed to breathe colour and life into ink and flesh. It shone bright like the very same one hanging in the sky beyond their window. The wolf seemed to bristle with the blood beneath Sirius’ skin, its fur shifting.

“Yeah?” Sirius’ voice quivered. _Please like it._

“Shit.” Remus’ palm flattened over the corded juncture where Sirius’ hip bit into his thigh. His thumb stoked a fire beneath the flesh, tentative, endlessly affectionate. “It’s… it’s—fucking gorgeous. It’s… Did you draw it?”

“Yeah.” Sirius finally drew the courage from the well of his stomach to meet Remus’ eyes. They were bright like forge-fire, amber and longing, misty with emotion. “Whilst we were at the cabin.”

“I can’t believe—that you—” Remus fingers traced the edges, carefully soft.

“I wanted it to match my dog.” Sirius lifted his hand to trace the edges of Remus’ face, the angle of his jaw, as the other man stared at the wolf, lamplight-alive. “Do you like it? It’s… it’s you, _for_ you.”

Remus’ breath rushed out of him as he moulded his hand to Sirius’ hip. “I love it. It’s beautiful, Pads.” He leant in and kissed Sirius’ cheek, then quested forward to fasten their mouths together. “C’mere, let me kiss you for it.”

Sirius scooted back onto the bed, immediately into the clasp of Remus’ arms, gently tugging him closer and closer. Sirius’ hands skated through Remus’ hair, down the sides of his neck, over the front of his chest, searching for silver-white scars and warm metal. Remus’ kisses turned Sirius’ insides to molten honey, turned his thoughts to floating-nothing, nothing but Remus and his mouth. His bare back hit the bedsheets a few moments later, with Remus above him, holding himself up on sinewy shoulders not to press against raw flesh.

“It’s gorgeous,” Remus whispered as he left a trail of breath-warmed skin in his wake down Sirius’ neck, pausing to bite hard and mark the edges of a rose at his collarbone. The purple flowers of Remus’ mouth swept around the ink roses in beautiful bouquets. “I… I’m on your body, Pads. For the rest of your life.”

Sirius reached up to draw his fingers through Remus’ hair again, down his upper arms. “I know. I want you there. I want you here, forever, too.”

Remus’ gaze flickered upwards from blooming another purple mark on Sirius’ sternum. “I don’t want to go anywhere either. Not without you.”

“Yeah,” Sirius breathed, his fingers curling around the nape of Remus’ neck.

The other man sat back on his heels, fingers going to the waistband of Sirius’ shorts to divest him off them. “Off… I wanna see, I wanna see properly.”

Sirius lifted his hips, watching as Remus pulled the fabric away, careful not to drag it over the tattoo. Obligingly, Sirius let his knee fall to the side to bare the wolf to the wolf, to let Remus trace the edges with love-fuelled fingers. Sirius touched the whorls of Remus’ hair as the other man propped himself on his knees between Sirius’ legs. Sirius’ cock was stirring insistently at the proximity of him.

“It’s… I can’t get over it, Pads.”

“I don’t want you to,” Sirius retorted, propped on his elbows to watch Remus.

“Right on your thigh. I like it here.” Remus tipped his chin up to watch Sirius for a moment before surging forward to trail his mouth over Sirius’ half-hard cock.

“Ohh… fucking hell, Moons.” Sirius threw his head back, assaulted by the sudden warmth of sensation flooding through his nerve endings. One hand tangled in Remus’ hair again, sliding through spun silk as Remus pitched forward and left a darkened patch on Sirius’ underwear at the behest of his tongue.

Remus hummed in reply, kissing open-mouthed floods of warmth over Sirius’ cock, hardening fast beneath him. When Sirius pressed his hips insistently up up up, Remus tugged his underwear down and shoved it away somewhere, preoccupied only with lavishing Sirius’ overheated skin with more and more warmth. His hands slid beneath Sirius’ arse, digging into flesh to press Sirius closer as he took him into his mouth.

Another hum, the soft flex of his throat around the tip of Sirius’ cock, the urging of closer, closer, closer, in the spaces between their atoms, in the distance between them always too much no matter how little it was. Sirius’ hands raised across Remus’ shoulders, following the curve of one downwards to grasp his wrist where it was beneath Sirius’ body.

Running as a pack, through forests, through endless primordial landscapes, time and space and everything beyond comprehension, through universes, a dog and a wolf, third eyes and astral planes. Remus pressed deeper, working Sirius over, coaxing him up, up, up to the stars, to the edges of the universe still slowly expanding, bringing atoms together. The dog and the wolf, the stars and the moon, flung to the edges and yet back to each other, ever back, like the inexorable pull of the cosmos, together, together, together.

Sirius came with a sharp cry, back bowing taut from the bed, lifting, pulled to completion along a shuddering bowstring to release into the night sky. Remus swallowed and swallowed, his amber eyes flickering up over Sirius’ form, sliding up to fasten them together and keep Sirius suspended and taut in warm affection. He kept on, unravelling Sirius’ soul thread by thread, gently pressing and pulling, coaxing with the warm passes of his metal-threaded tongue and the flex of his throat.

“Fuck,” Sirius hissed, sinking back into the bed, loose-limbed in ecstasy, splayed and heated.

Remus pulled back then, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, and crawled up Sirius’ body to kiss the corner of his panting mouth. “I love you.”

Sirius blinked the starlight from his eyes, insistently twinkling, and looped his arms around Remus’ waist, coaxing him into their togetherness. “I love you, I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for bearing with me with this update, it turned out to be exceptionally flowery and wordy.. Hope you all enjoyed. I, as always, am nourished and warmed by your gorgeous comments.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry that I've been away from these guys recently, my muse has been thoroughly elsewhere with some fest fics and collabs, I hope you guys can forgive me! Thank you so much for being here with me! 🖤 Thank you to Purplechimera for the beta and curlyremus for her un-ending repository of Matt Hits pics for me!
> 
> some mild trigger warnings for mention of Greyback's criminal charges, no in detail discussions but the listing of charges.

Greyback’s court date was set for an inconspicuous Wednesday, a week and a half before the Marauder Ink Halloween Party. A week earlier Sirius came home after staying late at the shop prepping artwork to find Remus not in the living room where he would usually be, but in their bedroom, holding a shivering piece of paper between his fingers.

Lily cancelled and rearranged Sirius’ appointments and cleared Remus’ schedule for the following Wednesday and it loomed in their calendars like a spectre on the horizon. Remus wasn’t _obliged_ to attend, it was sentencing, not a trial. Greyback’s _trial_ itself had been a decade ago, before the statute of limitations would have expired on the long list of charges, but he’d fled the country before being charged. Sirius had suggested, gently, that first night, that Remus didn’t have to go and face him, but Remus had pressed his lips together and nodded, said _I want to see him go to fucking jail, Pads._

Sirius couldn’t argue with that.

So on that inconspicuous, grey Wednesday morning, wearing grey, inconspicuous expressions and after walking up to a grey, inconspicuous entrance to the courtrooms, Sirius and Remus waited. Remus’ leg was jiggling up and down and rattling the lighter in his pocket against his thigh and the sound of it echoed like raised voices through the tiled hallway. Sirius could understand why Remus wanted to see this, to get closure, to get what he was robbed of seeing ten years ago, what he wasn’t strong enough to see. Now that he was strong, Remus could sit in the gallery and watch Greyback get sentenced and meet his eye to say _you have nothing on me, not anymore_ like he had done by the police car. But Sirius was the kind of person to run away from his problems, to run with his tail between his legs and only shout and fight and stand up when he was cornered, given no other option. If it were Sirius in Remus’ position, he would go to bed and curl up into the corner, waiting until it all blew over.

Remus was strong in a different way to Sirius, he wanted his closure to stare him in the face, whereas Sirius would be quite happy living with his fingers in his ears, pretending his life before Marauder Ink didn’t exist. Sirius took Remus’ hand, pressed a kiss to his knuckles, and set his fingers against the edge of the wolf tattoo beneath his jeans. Remus huffed a sigh, pressing his fingers ever so lightly, like sinking into the fur of the wolf for warmth and reassurance. It felt hard to make the words come in a place like this—high ceilings, marble floors, black suits and stern faces—but he could remind Remus of their togetherness, he could keep a hold of his hand.

“I need a cig,” Remus muttered after a moment, standing and stretching onto his toes.

Sirius didn’t say a thing, standing too and reaching into his pocket for his cigarettes. The pair were halfway across the marble floor, the heels of Sirius’ boots sounding so loud, when a court worker appeared in a doorway and called, “Greyback, Fenrir.”

Remus’ spine snapped straight and he turned on the spot, meeting Sirius’ eyes with a look that betrayed how cold he looked outwardly. His amber eyes looked young and scared and Sirius took two steps to catch up with him and take his hands. “You got this,” Sirius whispered as Remus pitched closer, his forehead resting on Sirius’. “Whenever you want to leave, we can leave.”

“Yeah. Okay, yeah.”

By all rights, Remus could’ve sat on the front row of the gallery, the premium seats to watch the man who sent his life into free-fall, like the stalls of a rowdy play in the Elizabethan times, throwing rotten fruit and cheering. Remus took a seat on the back row, right next to the door, and stared resolutely forward.

The courtroom was buzzing with quiet conversation, people’s heads bent together to murmur and whisper, coming together to give the slow, sinuous hiss of static. Sirius slipped into the seat beside Remus and took his hand once again. Without looking away from the front of the room, Remus kissed the back of Sirius’ hand, leaving his mouth pressed there as he sighed softly.

Sirius didn’t know what to say. There was nothing he could do but stay here with Remus, support and adore him and offer whatever comfort the other man would take. Sirius kept holding Remus’ hand, still pressed against Remus’ mouth like he was trying to breathe Sirius in.

Conversations sank into silence as the judge entered the room. Then, on his heels, the room now cold-quiet and Remus’ hand white-knuckled against Sirius’, Greyback was led in. He looked… Sirius wanted to say _unrecognisable_ but he knew he would always, _always_ recognise this man. Even in a different body Sirius felt like he would recognise the feeling coming off of him. Greyback’s hair was cut short now, not close-shaven but clipped far shorter than the mane of hair it had been before. His face was clean-shaven too, but that only accentuated the scar on his cheek and the way he was _still_ smiling. It wasn’t the feral, lurid grin Sirius saw when he closed his eyes, the one he knew haunted Remus too, but it was still a smile.

Remus’ fingers tightened around Sirius’ as he watched the man walk across the room. Sirius held on, through the raging currents of their ocean, holding on so tightly.

“Whenever you want to leave,” Sirius whispered, leaning to press his mouth against Remus’ ear, the slick metal of the piercings against his lips. “We can leave.”

“Yeah,” Remus breathed, watching. “It’s fine, just now.”

Sirius nodded, watching Remus watching the room. The words of the courtroom washed over Sirius, dunking him under cold water and filling his ears. All Sirius heard was the breathing of the man next to him, tightly controlled, in for four, hold for four, out for six. He could almost hear Remus counting in the silence between them, in for four, hold for four, out for six. Sirius tried to match his breathing, hoping to give him something else to subconsciously cling to. He remembered James doing the same for him, kneeling in front of him and breathing in and out in long pulls and getting Sirius to copy when all he could remember was pain and fear.

Remus’ gaze flickered across to Sirius for the barest moment, dancing over his face before being drawn back to the front of the room. The judge was listing charges.

“Seven counts of coercive behaviour,” he was saying, “five counts of grooming, four counts of sexual assault, one count of endangering the life of a minor, one count of leaving the scene of an accident, one count of failure to report an accident—”

There were never any names mentioned, but it was obvious who those counts were for. Remus’ eyes were ranging across the courtroom, his lips pressed tightly together. Sirius thought of the people from back in Wales that he had mentioned only once on the plane journey back from Barcelona, the people who sent him those texts every year, only reached out once, with veiled niceties and some with outright cruelty. Sirius squeezed his hand in Remus’, glancing from him out to Greyback.

Greyback looked so thoroughly unaffected, one eyebrow raised as if he disbelieved everything the judge was saying, leaning back in his chair. If he could’ve put his feet on the table, Sirius was sure he would’ve. Sirius tried not to look at him properly else his blood pressure would rise, but Remus was staring at the judge, listing charges like the waves of the ocean. Greyback was staring at the ceiling, nonchalant and relaxed. Sirius thought he had no idea how many people he had hurt, how many broken people and broken things he had left in his wake.

The scrape of Greyback’s chair sounded so loud through the low-level hum of the courtroom. The judge carried on above the noise as Greyback turned in his seat, like a dog catching a scent, suddenly interested in something. Sirius held his breath. Remus’ fingers tightened in Sirius’ grip.

Greyback’s eyes landed on Remus, piercing through the crowd as if everyone else in the courtroom didn’t matter. The world went still. Sirius felt his heart leap into his throat as Remus tensed next to him. He stared at Greyback, never feeling more like the guard dog Greyback had called him, but Greyback was looking to Sirius’ right, at Remus. Sirius didn’t have to glance sideways to know Remus was staring back, instead watching the dawning expression on Greyback’s face. Remus’ fingers were shaking in Sirius’ hand as Greyback’s eyebrows raised, then, when he apparently didn’t get what he wanted, his brow furrowed and his mouth tightened.

Remus’ breath shuddered out of him, but he kept sitting up straight, holding on Sirius’ hand. Sirius watched Greyback, his face slowly sinking into anger and resentment and the tantrum of someone who wasn’t getting their own way.

“Whenever you want to leave…” Sirius breathed, still watching Greyback.

“Not yet.” Remus’ voice was barely a whisper; he didn’t move a millimetre, staring ahead.

The judge’s voice cut through the courtroom as it sank into silence. Greyback looked away first, back to the judge when he demanded his attention with a sharp phrase. Sirius let out a long breath to try and ease some of the unease twisting and solidifying in his stomach.

Whenever Sirius had seen a sentencing on the television, it was a big thing; there was the banging of a gavel and a final sort of phrase that seemed to incite whooping and cheering in the crowd. That didn’t happen. Sirius only realised the charges were being read out halfway through the long list, full of jargon and terms and years and months. Nothing the judge said would’ve felt like enough, nothing except _Life._ The terms might’ve added up to a life sentence but it didn’t feel like it. Sirius hoped it would feel like closure for Remus, to know that all these years, all these weights, were being piled on Greyback’s shoulders, pinning him in place.

Remus took a breath. “Let’s go.”

Greyback turned and looked back through the crowd, his eyes meeting Remus’ again, even as he stood and Sirius stood too. Remus heaved a sigh, reaching for Sirius’ hand to lace their fingers. Sirius squeezed back, watching as Remus held Greyback’s gaze for a moment longer, before he turned away. Remus strode out of the courtroom with his shoulders back, spine straight, head held high. Sirius felt like his heart was about to burst, flying up out his body with pride and affection as its wings.

Remus didn’t stop walking until they were halfway down the street outside the courtroom, where he came to a halt so fast Sirius smacked into him. “Shit, sorry—sorry Pads.”

Sirius shook his head. “It’s fine.” He grasped Remus’ arm, squeezing slightly before wrapping his arms around the other man’s shoulders. “You did it.”

“Yeah.” Remus nodded, his hands gripping the slope of Sirius’ waist, biting tight and reassuring. “Yeah. He’s gone. He’s away.”

“Right, he’s away and he’s not gonna get out. It’s just us now.” Sirius pressed a kiss to his temple. “Just us.”

Remus pressed his mouth to the top of Sirius’ cheekbone, stayed there and breathed their togetherness in like it was holding him in one piece. He gripped on tight and that was okay with Sirius because it felt like it was keeping all of his pieces together too. They stayed there for a moment, in the middle of the pavement with their arms around each other, people moving around them and Sirius didn’t care.

“Proud of you,” Sirius breathed into the whorl of curls behind Remus’ ear. The words didn’t come when he was looking Remus in the eyes but there, with the smell of him and the feel of him right there, Sirius could say it. He was proud; watching this man stand up to his fear was something that pulled at Sirius’ insides and made him want to be better. He wanted to help build Remus up and build himself up too knowing Remus was there to support him. Was that a healthy relationship, building each other up? Remus hummed in reply, just holding onto Sirius, staying there for a moment, head bent, breathing in and out in tightly controlled breaths.

After a long few moments, Sirius pulled back, smiling softly. “Hey, when we get back to the shop, wanna give me another piercing?” Sirius didn’t know _what_ , they’d cross that bridge when they came to it, maybe something else in his ear or maybe even those dimples the two of them always talk about offhandedly. Sirius wouldn’t mind that; seeing Remus in his comfort-zone, miracle working, was always beautiful.

“Actually,” Remus said with a wry twist of his lips, teeth scraping at his lip ring. “I thought you could tattoo me.”

They get an Uber back to the shop and Lily’s eyebrows shot up when they walked through the door. She stood from behind the desk and skirted around to hug them both briefly. Beyond her, Sirius could hear James’ tattoo machine buzzing.

“Hi, you two,” Lily said, smiling slightly. “How’d it go? Alright?”

Sirius glanced sideways to Remus, trying to decide whether to let the other man answer. He didn’t want to talk on his behalf but he didn’t want to let him talk when it was uncomfortable for him.

Remus rubbed a hand across the lotus at the nape of his neck. “Fine. He got a lot of years, then we left.” Remus took a breath and reached for Sirius’ hand, squeezing their fingers together. “That’s all I wanted to see.”

Lily nodded curtly. “Right.”

Sirius gave Lily a reassuring smile. It felt she wanted it to be more of a big deal, maybe Sirius wanted that too, but he knew that it was not his to feel. He could see the tension in Remus’ body, or the lack of it now. He could see his shoulders loose and straight, that perpetual crease between his eyebrows smoothed slightly. The knowledge that Remus might be breathing a little easier now than in the last month or so—fuck, maybe in the last ten _years_ —pulled through Sirius with a pleasant hum, lighting his insides up like fireworks. _This is love_ , he thought, looking at Remus’ profile in the midday light. _This is what love feels like._

Remus tugged on Sirius’ hand, pulling him into the sanctuary of his tattoo room. Sirius followed, smiling and nodding at Lily as he shut the door behind him. When he turned around, Remus was sat on the edge of the tattoo bed, staring in the mirror on the wall opposite him.

“You really want me to tattoo you? What do you want?” Sirius said, crossing over and pulling up his wheely stool closer to sit on. “I don’t want you to regret it.”

“I’ve thought about it before. Never felt right.” Remus shifted so Sirius could sit between his legs, his hand going to Sirius’ bicep. “Feels right now though.”

Sirius nodded, eyes flickering over Remus’ face. God, he could look at Remus for the rest of his life and never be bored. This feeling would never go away, it was bone-deep, in their shared bloodstream and the spaces between their cells, the feeling of looking at Remus and _soaring_ was as fundamental to Sirius as art, as painted skin, as the shiver of anxiety that trickled down his tendons, that low lying thrum he knew now would never go away. It was part of him. All of it and he was _okay_ with that. “What do you want?”

 _I’ll give you anything you want,_ everything _you want, Moons._

Remus’ teeth scraped the black titanium of his lip ring again. “A crescent moon,” he said softly, eyes never leaving Sirius’ face as he touched the top of his sternum, just beneath his throat piercing. Then, a pause, a fraction of a second, before a whispered, “and a star.”

The air rushed out of Sirius’ lungs in one little puff. Remus had a single tattoo, and Sirius could tell from the look and feel of it that it was done quite poorly, when Remus was very young. It was some awful script of _Forever Young_ across his bicep and Sirius had to suppress a laugh every time he saw it. But this… this is something else. Sirius was used to covering himself in art, into giving sway to his muse, letting them lead him into fairy groves and leaping from one idea to the next. His body was an art gallery and fickleness just meant he was an avid curator. He honoured the way his tastes changed, looked back on the awful tattoo from eight years ago with fond memories instead of regret. But Remus? Remus’ marks were all important, deliberate, insistent. He made them with gravitas, with weighty decisions. This decision felt weighty.

“Yeah, okay.” Sirius shoved a hand through his hair, his heart pounding with the idea of marking Remus, of putting his mark on him, bodily, miraculously, pulling him along on a vision quest up into the cosmos. “Shirt off then.”

Remus paused a moment before grasping the back of his shirt and pulling it up over his head. He was so beautiful Sirius’ breath caught; the soft flex of his muscles as he shifted, the shape of Sirius’ teeth that sat at the base of his neck, blooming into soft purple.

Sirius scooted his stool along, grabbing a sterile wipe and a skin-safe marker he used for free-handing work before wheeling himself back in front of Remus. “How big?”

Remus made a ring with his thumb and forefinger, maybe an inch across. “Will that work?”

“Yeah.” Sirius wiped the area, feeling himself slipping into that trance state, euphoria bubbling at the seams of his being. “Trust me to free-hand the drawing?”

A creak of laughter came from Remus’ beautiful throat. “Of course.”

With that, Sirius gently tilted Remus’ chin up, then leaned forward, drawing out a small crescent moon, pitched to the side, with a tiny burst of a star nestled alongside it. Sirius’ tremors always went away when he was tattooing, _everything_ fell away under the presence of skin and the ability to pour himself into it. The canvas this time was especially gorgeous and Sirius was already floating, walking the edges of his consciousness into inspiration. He drew back, tilting his head left and right, checking for symmetry, balance, weight— _perfection_ , because he would give Remus Lupin nothing less. Satisfied for now, Sirius lifted his gaze to Remus’ face and saw he was watching him intently.

“Take a look, make sure that’s _exactly_ how you want it, okay?”

Remus stood and walked over to the mirror. Sirius watched his face, holding his breath, on edge, waiting. “Oh…” Remus bit his lip, his reflection glancing back to Sirius. “Pads… it’s—you knew exactly what I meant.”

“Yeah?” Sirius’ heart soared.

“Fuck…” Remus turned from the mirror, crossing back over to duck his head and snatch Sirius’ mouth into a heady kiss. Sirius’ hands snapped to the back of his thighs, his head _buzzing_ with the idea that Remus wanted _them_ , the moon and the star, on him forever, he wanted _Sirius_ to mark him with it.

Sirius moaned into his mouth before pulling back. “Let me do this, or I’m not gonna be able to keep my hands off you, Moons,” Sirius panted, pushing his stool back. Remus nodded, rubbing a hand over his face as he sat back on the tattoo bed. “Lie down.” Sirius watched him move for a moment before turning back to their station, setting up their machine and getting ready.

The music in the shop changed abruptly, and Sirius glanced up to see Remus grinning to his phone. Right on cue, Lily’s voice came from the main room. “Oi, Moony, I was listening to that!”

Remus snickered, throwing his phone down next to him. “Sorry Lily!” he called back, without an ounce of remorse in his voice.

“You’re awful with your playlists,” Sirius commented, pulling his machine over to the bed and continuing along the arc of his set-up ritual, the thing he does off by heart, by rote, with reverence and care, kneeling before his muses.

“You like my playlists,” Remus shot back, his amber gaze raking over him.

Sirius just nodded in response, getting the last of his preparations ready. He rolled his stool over to Remus, peering at him. “You ready? No last minute changes? I’d say it’ll only take twenty minutes, maximum.”

Remus smiled and reached out to grasp Sirius’ wrist in lieu of lacing their fingers now Sirius was wearing his nitrile gloves. “I’ve never been surer. It’s perfect, and I want you to do it. Today.” He took a deep breath, squeezing Sirius’ wrist. “The moon isn’t _his_ any more. You can have it.”

“Yeah,” Sirius breathed, adjusting his machine because he couldn’t look at Remus with such stark vulnerability woven into his voice. Sirius _heard_ forever in his voice when he spoke like that, all low and quiet, soft-slow, for Sirius. “I’ll—” he licked his lips, pausing before glancing up to Remus, and oh, his amber eyes were burning— “I’ll keep it safe.”

Remus just nodded, staring at Sirius with wide eyes, honeyed amber and sunlight promises.

Sirius took a deep breath, leaning over Remus’ torso. “Okay,” he murmured, “Chin back a little, deep even breaths, don’t move. Tell me if you’re gonna sneeze or cough. It will sting a little in a place like this.” He pressed a quick kiss to Remus’ lips amidst his usual spiel. “Okay?”

“Okay.”

Remus’ skin had always been entrancing to Sirius. Back when they had barely known each other he was beyond intrigued by the lightly tanned breadths of him and the criss-crosses of silver-white. There was something about the very building blocks of him that called to Sirius, something fundamental he couldn’t put his finger on. He’d always been drawn to to it, always pressed endless kisses over his collarbones and down to the hollow of his throat. Being here though, like this, his breath hitting Remus’ neck, the tattoo machine in his hand buzzing its gentle lullaby, soothing-sharp, was _magical_. It was otherworldly and Sirius was already in another plane, already floating free somewhere else, up in the sky. Watching the needle leave behind inky little bites, like the press of Sirius’ teeth, in facsimile to the hickey he had given Remus the night before, en route to a blowjob that was a bid to distract him from the looming trial.

It felt holy, beyond goodness in a way Sirius had never felt before.

“You’re gorgeous when you concentrate.”

Sirius didn’t dare look up, focussing instead on the way tattooing came alive, sprang up out of ocean-grey depths like a lifeboat, held him afloat in a way that nothing ever had before, and now he got to share that with Remus. He wiped at the ink and blood floating to the surface of Remus’ golden-silver sternum and let out a breath. “You’ll distract me.”

“No, I won’t. You’ve got that far away look in your eyes. You’re away wherever you go when you come alive like this, whenever you bring things to life.” Remus’ voice was low and soft, private. “But I’m here with you.”

Sirius nodded, speech far beyond his thoughts now with the combined soundtrack of Remus’ voice, undercut and sharpened with the buzz of the tattoo machine, the very hum of Sirius’ soul. _I’ll never be as close to another person again_ , Sirius thought, the only coherent thread in his brain as he pressed the shape of their togetherness into Remus’ skin, punctured it there to stay forever, the moon and the star, until the end of it all. He felt like if he pressed the flat of his palm against Remus’ sternum they would just slide together, merge and meld back to how they were eons ago, together as one.

“There…” Sirius felt a little lightheaded with the sight of his mark on Remus, and the idle voice in the back of his head wondered if Remus felt the same when he saw the wolf on Sirius’ thigh. He wiped the tattoo over, set his things down and pushed back with his heels. _Fuck_ , it felt like something far more important than ten minutes work, to see that moon and star sitting beneath Remus’ throat piercing; the place where Sirius wanted to be buried, interred, entombed there like a Pharaoh with all of his worldly possessions, Remus’ throat and the divot there where Sirius laid his sweetest dreams. “Go see.”

Remus padded to the mirror, tracing the tips of his fingers around the soft, diffused flush that had risen to the surface around the tattoo. “It’s perfect,” he breathed, his voice like not-quite shattered glass, stained glass held together with lead cames, strips of solidity through his throat made of ink and metal.

Sirius watched him, taking in the planes of his back as he faced away from Sirius, the way his moon scar sank and rose with every breath, arched and cupped by the crescents either side, sharp and smooth all at once. Sirius had the taste of that patch of skin committed to memory and _nothing_ could strip it from him. His mouth against Remus’ moon scar, his own moon and star at Remus’ throat.

They were winding around each other, twisting like strands of a rope, tighter and tighter, impossible to unbraid; pulling down walls, crossing oceans, obliterating boundaries, sliding beyond them and into a new world where there was the two of them—Remus-and-Sirius, Sirius-and-Remus and nothing separate. Together, they could do this. Life was testing, pulling, pushing. Together, they could push back.  
  



	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a _while_ so thank you for your patience, guys! I had some fest works with deadlines all at once, but now we're back, and I've missed you all! Thank you as always to Purplechimera for the beta, and to curlyremus for the repository of Matt Hitt pics!

The afternoon of the Marauder Ink Halloween party James and Sirius slipped off, satisfied Molly was overseeing the elaborate decorations and making sure everything was perfect. This year they had both stumbled upon a fantastic idea for costumes that they were sure would throw everyone off. No one knew, not even Lily and Remus—though the former was trying desperately to get either of them to spill—and it would be the most fantastic surprise.

Giddy with excitement at the surprise of the century, Sirius sat next to James in an Uber to a friend of a friend. Emmeline Vance was a friend of Marlene’s Sirius had tracked down through Instagram, who specialised in SFX and transformative makeup. She’d been so thrilled with the idea that Sirius and James had approached her with, and they’d worked together to figure it all out. Sirius couldn’t _wait_ to see everyone’s reactions.

Everything felt so much lighter now. With Greyback sentenced and the crescent moon and star nestled in Remus’ throat it felt like the world had righted itself. It felt like they could finally move forward, separate themselves from the trauma of the past few months and begin to heal, begin to see the shop without Greyback in the doorway, their lives without the terror of checking dark alleyways and running from the car into the safety of their flat.

Last night, Devil’s Night, they’d watched the Crow and eaten Mexican food, a tradition spanning back through the years for James and Sirius, gradually reeling in the others: Lily, Marlene, Dorcas, Frank, Alice, Peter and Mary. Warm on margaritas and too much chilli, Sirius had sprawled on his back atop his and Remus’ sheets once everyone had left, watching the moonlight over the ceiling whilst the shower ran in the bathroom, Remus beneath the water in all of his glory. When he appeared at the doorway, towel around his hips, Sirius had given him a hot once over and sat up, beckoning him closer. They had everything they needed now, each other, sturdy like sandbanks, coral reefs, icebergs thousands of years old, resisting that climate crisis falling down around them. It would be endless, infinite, this togetherness with the two of them.

Remus came into Sirius’ palm with a soft little susurration of Sirius’ name as Sirius traced that divot of his throat, the mix of metal and ink there, with the tip of his pink tongue, sealing their togetherness fresh every time with breath and saliva.

They had settled into a beautiful rhythm, like the waves of their ocean had settled now, depths and shallow washes, the roaring so long ago. Sirius thought a lot about his previous opinions on relationships, on sex, on connection. Sex had been such a weighted thing in Sirius’ brain before Remus, only given real validation when it was sticking it up someone’s arse or getting it stuck up yours. He wasn’t even sure where that came from, how that idea had slunk into his head and taken root there. He and Remus didn’t need that, and there was nothing _less_ in their relationship for it. Yes, they had done it, that time at Potter Farm, then the cabin, but it felt too much to do every damn night, too much preparation and time when they could stroke each other in tandem or map each other with their mouths and it be blissful and beautiful. Besides, Sirius was sure at this point it was also a metaphorical _fuck you_ to the part of society that said queer sex was only valid when it was putting your dick in someone’s arse.

Sirius loved that, he loved that he and Remus could be themselves, could lean into each other now and grow together, their roots twinning. He almost felt bad he was keeping his costume a secret from him, but he knew this would be worth it.

At Emmeline’s house, Sirius and James sat for a long time as Emmeline did her work. James went first, his glasses set aside on Emmeline’s dining room table as she spread her materials out around her. Sirius grinned and watched her, wondering if that felt like a vision quest too, if she was seized by inspiration and pulled into fairy groves on the edge of her consciousness. Sirius made cups of tea in Emmeline’s kitchen and laughed when James tried to drink without smudging any of it.

Honestly, Sirius didn’t recognise James when Emmeline sat back, a pleased smile on her face. She gestured to Sirius to swap places with him and Sirius closed his eyes. James laughed when _he_ tried to drink without smudging any of it.

Eventually they got dressed into their costumes. Emmeline scraped Sirius’ hair back and made it look shorter by tucking and pinning it all up at the nape of his neck atop his shirt collar. She parted James’ and slicked it down too and laughed as Sirius slipped on a pair of James’ old frames and James put in his contact lenses. They were stood in front of the mirror in Emmeline’s spare bedroom when they finally got a good look at themselves and promptly burst into laughter.

Sirius looked unrecognisable. His hair was slicked and short-looking, his nose ring was out, and James’ glasses were perched on his nose. The most important thing was the cover-up makeup Emmeline had done, so not one of Sirius’ many tattoos, even the ones on his hands, were visible. He looked like a nerdy office worker, with a white button-up shirt and black suit trousers. James was something similar, his hair was parted in the middle, his tattoos covered (it was strange to see him without the lily flower on his neck, or even the _L_ on his ring finger, the antlers on his chest) and beneath another white shirt. With any luck, Sirius thought, they’d be completely overlooked and people would be confused as to why two out of place nerds were in the coolest party this side of the Atlantic.

“This is the stupidest thing we’ve ever done, isn’t it?” Sirius asked, shoving James on the arm.

“It’s fucking ridiculous. I honestly don’t recognise you right now. You sound like Padfoot but you don’t _look_ like him mate.” James adjusted his sleeve cuffs, checking his watch.

“Speak for yourself, right. Who the hell are you? I haven’t seen your forearms in _years_.” Sirius snorted, looking them both over in the mirror. “Right, shall we?”

Together, Sirius and James went downstairs and were met with Emmeline in her living room, who promptly burst out laughing.

“Oh my fucking God, you two,” she managed to get out, leaning against the arm of the sofa. “You look absolutely ridiculous.”

“Thank you,” Sirius replied, grinning.

“I’ll email you the video, yeah?”

Sirius had barely even noticed Emmeline’s phone whilst they were getting ready, but they had decided to film the process so they could show it at the party as a way of revealing their epic plan. “Yeah, that’d be great. I already sent you the money, didn’t I?”

Emmeline nodded. “Yep, you’re all sorted. Go party the night away.”

“Sure you don’t want on the guest list, Emme?” James scrunched his nose up like he was pushing his glasses up his nose but he wasn’t wearing them.

“Nah, I’m good, I’ve already got plans tonight loves,” Emmeline said, waving them off. “Have a good time.”

After bidding goodbye to Emmeline, Sirius and James took an Uber back towards the city centre, sitting thigh to thigh and laughing like schoolboys about the epic prank they were about to pull on everyone. They got out at a bar just down the road from the party venue, where they could see the doors open and people moving around beyond the windows.

At the bar, Sirius ordered two beers, sitting at a table near the windows. Both of them had a bad case of uncontrollable laughter as they drank their beers. “This is definitely the best prank we’ve ever pulled,” Sirius said, shoving James in the arm.

“Think Moony and Lily will recognise us?” James swilled his drink around then took a long pull of it, peering at Sirius over the rim.

“I dunno mate, I barely recognise you myself and I’ve known you the longest.”

“I don’t think I can _not_ recognise your ugly mug, Pads.”

Sirius swatted at James’ shoulder, laughing. “Speak for yourself.”

James had a point though. Sirius did wonder whether Remus would recognise him, whether that togetherness they had cultured, that thing that makes Sirius’ breathing sync with Remus’ when they were in the same room, made them reach for each other across their ocean, sitting side by side on the sofa in the shop, in the evenings in their bedroom, would pull them together. Would Remus be able to follow that thread and see Sirius beneath this? It was an intriguing thought.

They killed some time, eventually, just talking about everything and nothing. Sirius kept glancing down at his hands, surprised to see the lack of ink there, the Gryffindor lion, his sink and swim. He thought of the wolf on his thigh, glad they didn’t need to cover that—Sirius didn’t reckon he’d be getting down to his pants at the party—and thought, as he did often, of Remus’ tattoo beneath his throat. Out of the window, facing onto the street, Sirius saw people starting to gather for the party, people arriving, the flashbulbs of photography. He was looking for Remus, who had decided to keep his own costume secret after Sirius refused to tell his. He’d arrive with Lily though, he was sure, who didn’t care that the rest of them knew she was going to be Annabelle from that horror movie series.

Sirius didn’t see him though, and came to the end of his beer as the sun was well and truly down, the reporters gathered outside to take photographs just a way down the street. Sirius was baffled, regularly, by the growing popularity of their little shop. It never failed to amaze him when someone emailed for an interview for a magazine, or to arrange a photoshoot, or the guest list for the parties were so hotly contended Molly had to fend off so many people or face the wrath of the venue for going over capacity.

“Shall we, then?” James said, setting his glass down and clapping Sirius on the shoulder.

“Yeah, let’s.”

To their utter _delight_ , the photographers barely paid any attention as he and James walked up. They were earlier than they usually arrived for the parties, usually fashionably late at Lily’s behest, but they wanted to be early today. A few flashes went off, probably from an over-keen intern who didn’t want to miss anyone but James and Sirius walked on without anyone realising who they were.

At the door, Sirius and James had to reveal their identities just for a moment, showing their ID to the bouncer when he, for a moment, was convinced they _weren’t_ the owners of Marauder Ink, despite having known them for as many years as they’d been doing these parties. With a laugh and a shake of his head, the bouncer stepped aside and let them in. James clapped Sirius on the shoulder, grinning ear to ear.

Inside, Molly had done the most perfect things to the interior. The party was in swing, with people gathered, drinks from the bar in hand. They had a special cocktail menu that night with things like Embalming Fluid (a lurid green drink with apple sours) and a Black Widow cocktail that glittered. Sirius weaved through the crowd with James, seeing an apple bobbing station where it smelt like the apples were floating in some kind of vodka concoction, as well as a face painting station set up by a good friend of theirs, Davey Gudgeon, a fantastic tattoo artist who worked up north and came down for the parties. The lights were low and the usual daylight bulbs had been switched out for red, orange, yellow, green and blue. There were tombstones everywhere and spiderwebs draped from the corners of booths, from the cornicing, from doorways. The music was a carefully constructed playlist Remus had been working on for months, filled with the right amount of spooky, campy and hardcore. It was all wonderful.

Everyone’s costumes were beautiful too. People went all out for the party, and Sirius loved it so much. Across the crowds he spotted Alice and Frank, who were (he should’ve guessed, how had they never done that before?) Alice in Wonderland and the Mad Hatter. It felt strange to see them out of their usually mod, 50’s-esque get up, but they both looked great. Next, at the bar, leaning his hip there as James—who usually got served in the blink of an eye, especially at their own party—had to vie for attention through all of the costumes, Sirius saw Mary and Peter. They were Sandy and Danny from _Grease_ , only they had gone half and half, half-jock and half leather jackets and tight trousers. They really had gone all out, cutting their clothes in half, it seemed, but it made a great sight and Sirius could see people complimenting them. He was sure he was grinning widely at the fact none of his friends had found him yet.

Marlene and Dorcas appeared at the bar only a few people down from Sirius and James—who had finally gotten their drinks, green margaritas with black salt around the rim—and Sirius was _sure_ Dorcas even glanced over to him and didn’t recognise him. The duo were dressed as Crowley and Aziraphale from _Good Omens_ , with Dorcas as Aziraphale, in a cream 1920’s style dress with a drop waist and pearls. Marlene was in a tight black suit, all deep cut with a silk shirt and scarf, red spray through her hair and Crowley’s glasses on her nose.

Sirius nudged James. “Oi, look at those two. They look great.”

James let out a low whistle, taking a sip of his margarita. “Yeah, they’re fabulous. Funny because Dorcas is the one down for murder at the drop of a hat.”

“Yeah, so’s Aziraphale, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, that’s fair.” James grinned, slid Sirius’ drink to him, and stepped back from the bar. Sirius watched him dig in his pocket and pull out his phone. “Lily and Moony just arrived. Let’s see if we can spot them from a distance.”

Sirius led the way through the crowds, trying not to go _too_ close to their close friends and tempt their luck, and went up to the balcony that ran around three sides of the room, with booths tucked into the corners and statues covered in cobwebs, eyes in paintings that followed you along. “You see them?” Sirius murmured as he leaned his arms on the balcony, looking down into the crowd for Lily’s red hair.

After a moment James spoke, his hazel eyes scanning the crowds nearest the door. “Yeah, there’s Lily.” James gestured as discreetly as he could, smiling. “Great costume. Is that Moony next to her?”

Sirius followed his brother’s indication, spotting Lily easily, her hair in low bunches, wearing a pale blue dress with a pinafore, her eyes wide and doll-like with makeup. She looked terrifying and fantastic. Next to her was Remus. Sirius knew it was him straight away, beneath the white-blonde wig and pale make-up. He was Andy Warhol, with what Sirius knew now was _his_ leather jacket, a black polo neck, black jeans and some round glasses perched on his nose. Sirius recognised him, and something stirred in him (even despite how ridiculous the costume was) that Remus was wearing his jacket, a thing that had been with him for years, supple and moulded to his body. He liked that.

Lily and Remus were weaving through the crowds, pausing to talk to people, hugging, saying hello, complimenting costumes. Something must’ve made Remus look up and around, because his gaze swept over the balcony, as if he were looking for something in particular. Sirius resisted the urge to duck down out of his sight, not ready for the jape to be up yet, but he was too slow. For a moment, Remus’ gaze flickered past him, and Sirius almost breathed a sigh of relief, until that amber gaze fixed on him again. Remus’ brow furrowed for just a moment, his teeth scraping the metal of his lip ring he hadn’t bothered to remove, before he smiled.

“Oh shit,” James muttered. “How did he recognise you?”

Sirius watched, shaking his head, almost in disbelief, as Remus grabbed Lily’s arm. Sirius took that split second he was turned away to duck below the bannister and drag James down towards the stairs. He was enjoying this game of hide and seek, pretending at being someone else. But there was warmth blooming up through Sirius’ spine too, settling nicely at the base of his skull and pooling in the hollows of his pelvis. Remus recognised him. Their shared ocean really had linked them together, because Sirius thought he didn’t look anything like himself.

Halfway down the stairs, Remus emerged from the crowd with Lily in tow, grinning. “I thought it was you two!”

Sirius frowned, glancing to James then back to Remus, but then he was smiling too much to pretend he didn’t know them. He allowed himself to grin and shook his head. “Who?”

“Oh come off it,” Lily said, laughing. “What the hell, you both look so damn different!”

James crossed to Lily, his resolve crumbling in the face of his wife, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “We got Marlene’s make-up artist friend to cover us all up.”

“You’re not wearing your glasses. _Padfoot_ is wearing your glasses.” Lily looked between them, peering at the place on James’ neck where she _knew_ his lily tattoo sat, then at his hands. “This is fucking weird.”

Sirius drew closer to Remus, meeting the other man as he held his hand out. Remus was looking at him with wide eyes, an expression he couldn’t quite place on his face. “These ones are just frames,” he murmured half to Lily before he tilted his head and looked at Remus properly. “How did you recognise me? Prongs and I can barely recognise each other.”

Remus shrugged a shoulder and set his hand on Sirius’ waist. “Dunno. Could just tell it was you.The way you were standing, the way…” He trailed off, biting his lip ring. “Just you, I could just tell.” Remus smiled, cocked his head and circled his fingers around Sirius’ wrist. “Besides, then you gave me this _oh hello who are you stranger?_ look and you’re _so_ shit at acting, Pads, I knew it had to be you.”

Sirius barked a laugh and lifted his painted fingers—God it was so weird not to see his Gryffindor lion there—to brush over Remus’ cheeks. “You don’t like Warhol.”

“No,” Remus said with a wry quirk of his lips. “But if anyone asks me about him, I have a whole rant about his problematic nature, even despite his status as an art legend.”

“This is why I love you,” Sirius murmured, grinning ear to ear at how passionate Remus had gone, how much they had in common, passion over art, the culture of it, the far reaching effects of it, the way it brought them to the edges of their vision quests, art uniting them. He leaned in, whispering only a hair away from Remus’ mouth. “So very much.”

Remus’ hand tightened on his waist. “We’ll smudge all our makeup.”

Sirius rolled his eyes, slinging his arms around Remus’ waist and pressing them close. “Mm, I suppose.” He tugged at the lapel of the leather jacket—it was definitely his—and smiled. “This is mine.”

“Is it?” Remus said lightly. “I think it fits me well.”

“Good job we’re such similar builds then, hm?” Sirius grinned, sliding his hands over Remus’ spine, the gentle s-bend of it, up to where he knew that full moon started, pressing there like a touchstone to their togetherness. Even beneath _Sirius’_ leather jacket, through his turtleneck, Sirius could feel it. Like they could feel each other, find each other, across oceans. “Suits you.”

Remus’ fingers climbed their way around Sirius’ hips, over the edge of those awful suit trousers, the cheap, ill-fitting ones he had bought for this purpose, and swept over his lower back; that beautiful space between cherry blossoms and the arcing tail of a dragon where Sirius’ desire lived, where that little pocket of heat and all things beautiful lived, where Remus lived. Sirius lived in the divot of Remus’ throat, in honey, ink and metal. Remus lived in the curve of Sirius’ lower back, fiery dragon scales, cherry blossoms and alabaster canvas, heat, beauty, love.

“I like it on you better,” said Remus, his voice low, his smile crooked. Even as Andy Warhol, all pale skin and that _stupid_ wig, Remus was beautiful. Sirius saw under his skin, into the spaces between his cells.

“Good job it’s _mine_ then,” Sirius retorted, raising one eyebrow.

“Getting it back?”

“I will fight you for this jacket, Moony.”

“Oi, Pads,” James called, nudging Sirius’ arm. “We gotta keep up the ruse, c’mon. We can make an entrance whilst these two start the speeches.”

“So long as there’s no more shitty acting, alright?” Remus quipped, leaning in to kiss the corner of Sirius’ mouth.

“Er, rude. I am a good actor,” Sirius muttered, narrowing his eyes at Remus.

Lily’s peal of laughter was so loud Sirius cringed, and that only made Remus and James laugh too.

“We were going to stumble on stage and pretend we were looking for the loos,” James said through his chuckles, setting his hands on his hips.

“Please no, that’ll ruin it.” Lily patted James on the arm, leaned up to kiss him briefly, before she gestured to Remus. “Come on, we can start the speeches.”

Sirius gave Remus’ waist a squeeze before the other man walked off, and watched him weave through the crowd with Lily. Fuck, Sirius loved him so much it was painful in so many ways, painful and beautiful. Now they could both breathe easily, now they had dragged each other onto vision quests into the stars, come back intertwined and interlaced. Greyback was behind bars, behind them, left with painful memories and burning rubber at the side of the road. They were moving past it now.  
  


At the side of the stage, Sirius watched as Lily and Remus welcomed the crowd and spoke for a moment, congratulating their costumes. People were looking around, and he could hear murmurs of _where are Black and Potter? You seen James? Or Sirius?_

He was struck, for a moment, bone-deep with fear. Last time, it all went wrong. Last time, Bella and Cissa turned up, ruined the evening, ruined whatever had been bubbling between he and Remus that would take months to come to a head. It had resulted in that strung-out, unmoored feeling Sirius had felt the whole weekend. It had ended with Regulus turning up at the shop, with his Saville Row suit and his wallet full of money. That had pulled him back underwater for such a long time, and he didn’t want that back. Sirius let out a breath and shoved his hands in his pockets. The thought had been dormant at the back of his head for a while with the preparations, for the surprise of their costumes, but now, stood here, Sirius kept glancing into the crowd. Regulus had said he’d sent Bella and Cissa away, but that didn’t mean he actually had, or that they wouldn’t find another way to ruin him.

James put an arm around his shoulders. “Come on.”

Sirius handed his phone to the DJ, with the instruction to play that video, then strode onto stage following his brother. At first there were murmurs running through the crowd, wondering who the two people on stage were, and why Lily and Remus had stopped speaking.

“Evening everyone,” James said conversationally, and as much as he was unrecognisable with his appearance, he still _sounded_ like James. The crowd recognised him and the murmurs picked up. Sirius grinned, seeing Lily smiling secretively and Remus with one cool eyebrow raised. “Sirius and I,” James continued, jutting his chin first to Sirius, then the screen behind them as the video started playing, Sirius in the chair with Emmeline working her magic, “decided to do something a little different this Halloween. We wanted to go incognito, and it’s worked rather well, don’t you think?”

The crowd cheered and Sirius rolled his eyes, strolling over to Lily and Remus. “James is a showman, but who is really surprised by this here tonight, hm?”

“Not me,” Sirius heard Minerva reply drolly from the front row, and shot her a huge grin. Sirius would never get tired of seeing his mentors here, looking proud and smiling.

“Like Lily said,” Sirius continued, crossing over to his sister-in-law and curling an arm around her waist, “we want to thank you for making this year a success, and look back over the great summer we had with the shop, and what a great winter we’ve got lined up.”

“We say it every year, but without you all, Marauder Ink would be nothing. You, our friends, family, clients, customers, everyone who we come across. So thank you.” James raised his drink in a toast to the entire room. “To you.”

The crowd cheered and Sirius spotted all manner of brightly coloured drinks in the air, above all manner of brightly coloured wigs and costumes.

Lily squeezed her arm around Sirius’ waist, then pulled James a little closer to her. “The Halloween party honestly started out as a reason for these two to continue their ridiculous shenanigans and costume parties out of school.”

They couldn’t argue that, Sirius thought, reaching for Remus’ hand to lace their fingers together.

“But it’s turned into an important event for us. It’s not the birthday party, but it’s a time we all get to celebrate creativity, celebrate each other, celebrate _art_ and our bodies and the importance of _play_ , and I think that’s so very critical in times like these. Arts funding is being cut, and what is a world without art? None of us would be here. So that’s why this year, we’re donating proceeds from tonight to _Impact Arts,_ a local charity that helps people and transforms the community around us. It’s something that’s been close to my heart for a while and I know Outreach—” That was Marlene and Dorcas’ LGBT+ shelter— “work closely with them too. So, to the arts!”

God, Lily was always so astute, always so insightful and coherent. Sirius shook his head and held up his drink a second time. “To Lily Evans-Potter!”

A ring of laughter ran through the crowd but there were cheers of _The Arts!_ _Lily!_ rising up. Loudest of all was James, stood on Lily’s other side, looking a little misty-eyed. Sirius knew that whenever Lily showed her passion for art, the shop, all of them, James got emotional.

Remus squeezed Sirius’ hand, then slipped forward to ease the microphone from Lily’s hand. “Okay my turn to say something now,” Remus said into it, clearing his throat.

Sirius didn’t know he’d been planning to say something, and his insides sort of thrilled for a moment at the idea, wondering what he was going to speak about. He kept his hand in Sirius’, squeezing their fingers. Sirius was thankful for the vision his profile painted, looking out over the crowd, so he didn’t have to search for Bella or Cissa or his inevitable ruin.

“At the last party, I had only been with Marauder Ink for maybe a month, but now it’s been seven or so, and it’s felt like seven or so _years_ , really. But these three idiots I now call my best friends were so good at bringing me into their fray… even if Sirius wasn’t keen at first because he’s an arsehole who’s resistant to change.”

“Oi,” Sirius murmured, jabbing him in the side, as a peal of laughter rang through the crowd. Then, with a wry smile, Sirius shrugged, as if to say _well, he’s right_.

“But now I’m here with the most fulfilling job and it’s because of Sirius Black, James Potter and Lily Evans-Potter. You all as well, of course, because without you I wouldn’t be here, either. I definitely can’t pierce thin air. So anyway, enough feelings from me. How about, three cheers to Marauder Ink?”

Remus raised his drink and looked over to Sirius with a warm smile. Sirius could hear the rest of the things that came along with his admittance, things like _you’ve helped me through the worst time of my life, I’ve found love because of you, I’ve found friends and family and a_ home _with you. I love you_.

Sirius raised his drink and his heart swelled again and again, one, twice, three times with every cheer. He had found his home there too.

The night went well. Sirius held his breath sometimes, at every time the door opened, expecting to see Bella’s wild curls or Cissa’s blonde hair or Regulus’ pinched expression, like Orion’s spectre. Thankfully, Remus wound his arms around Sirius’ waist and kissed the corner of his mouth—carefully, for both of their makeup—and distracted him every time. The Warhol get-up wasn’t as attractive as that burgundy suit (that would reduce Sirius to rubble in moments), but Remus was so beautiful, dancing away to the appropriately spooky music. Every time Sirius’ heart-rate lifted, his pulse soaring, Remus would press his hands down the curve of Sirius’ spine and smile his crooked little smile. He knew how on edge Sirius was all night, convinced that their happy place was about to come falling down, just like it did at the birthday party.

At 1am the lights came up and Doc and the Twins, who had come back from their European tour to play, said _thank you and goodnight_. The Marauder Ink gang stood by the exit as everyone started to file home, or went onwards to club nights, and said goodbye. Sirius hugged and kissed cheeks and laughed along. The night was going so well, even despite his anxiety bubbling in the background, waiting for things to go wrong.

Eventually the venue was empty, and Lily ordered an Uber whilst Sirius lit up three cigarettes for James and Remus. He leaned against the wall, remembering how different it was when he was here last, as he took a drag, holding the other two out for James and Remus.

“Good night, eh?” James said, a plume of smoke issuing from his nose.

Remus took Sirius’ hand and laced their fingers. “Yeah, a good night.” He looked at Sirius whilst he said it, as if to make sure he did enjoy himself, to make sure his worries and neuroses hadn’t sunk their claws too deep into their otherwise fun night.

“Yeah,” Sirius agreed, exhaling a long drag and leaning his head against Remus’ shoulder. “Glad everything went to plan.”

James nodded. He knew how worried Sirius had been, even if Sirius himself didn’t know.

“Alright boys, Uber’s here.”

The ride home was uneventful and James went in the shower first to wash off all of Emmeline’s hard work. Sirius sat on the edge of the bed and watched as Remus pulled off his wig and hung Sirius’ leather jacket back on the chair.

“C’mon then Pads, I wanna see this cover up job,” Remus said, pressing his hip into the dresser as he turned to survey Sirius. “I wanna see how funny you look without all your art.”

Sirius rolled his eyes, but started plucking at the buttons of his shirt. “It’s weird. Wouldn’t want it to stay this way.”

Remus cocked his head, his eyes flickering down Sirius’ chest, where Emmeline had covered up his tattoos else they show through his shirt. “Neither would I.”

Shrugging off the shirt, Sirius smiled, drinking in the look on Remus’ face, the way the other man loved Sirius just how he was. Remus loved Sirius’ tattoos, his canvas, just like Sirius loved Remus’, all silver-white and criss-crossed. Remus’ amber eyes were like lamplight in the middle of the night, haunting in the blackness, just the streetlights outside to see. “Well,” Sirius said with a smile, standing up and turning around. The suit trousers were a little lower on his hips now, but his whole torso was bare and just _skin_. Sirius hadn’t seen himself like this since he was 16, and it was strange now nearly ten years later, to wipe away all the art. “What do you think?”

Remus shook his head, huffing a little laugh. “You’re still bloody gorgeous,” he said softly, drawing closer. “But you’re not _you_ like this.” Sirius watched as he lifted his hand and traced down the centre of the sternum where the black dog sat, rumbling beneath the makeup. He traced the lines of every tattoo, even though he couldn’t see them, brushing over roses, down portraits and paw-prints, antlers and lilies. “It’s just not quite right… Uncanny valley; you’re not you.”

Sirius watched every touch of his fingertips, feeling his chest quivering just a little. “I bet it’s like seeing you without your piercings, or without all your scarification. You’d be you, but you wouldn’t be _you._ Maybe we’ll get Emme to cover you up one day.”

“Nah,” Remus breathed, his eyes still flickering over Sirius’ chest, down his arms. “They’re part of me, I’ll keep them around.”

“As much as my tattoos are a part of me,” Sirius replied, lifting his hands to cup Remus’ cheeks and bring him in for a soft kiss.

Remus hummed, nipping Sirius’ lip before he pulled away and grasped Sirius’ hands, looking them over. Emmeline had even covered Sirius’ palm tattoos, but they were starting to fade a little after the night. “There you are,” Remus whispered, his mouth quirking into a smile as his thumb rubbed over Sirius’ palm, revealing the ink there. Sirius’ heart fluttered up into his throat, pushed against the confines of his ribcage to dive into Remus’ soul and nestle there where it belonged.

There was a knock on the door, and James’ voice floated through their quiet stillness. “Bathroom’s yours, Pads,” James said. “G’night both of you.”

“C’mon,” Sirius said to Remus, twisting his hand to grasp the other man’s. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

On the way to the bathroom they called through a goodnight to James and Lily and Remus put on music, soft and low, whilst Sirius turned the shower on. Sirius pushed off his awful trousers and watched with voracity as Remus pulled off that turtleneck and discarded his black jeans.

“You’re so gorgeous, Moons,” Sirius muttered, pulling the pins from his hair where Emmeline had slicked it back.

Remus just chuckled, crossed the bathroom in a stride and tugged Sirius into the shower with him. “I wanna see you. You’re a fucking work of art and I can’t see it.”

Sirius laughed and leaned in to kiss Remus just as the other man snatched up the sponge and shower gel to start rubbing off that makeup. It took his breath away, almost, to see how eager Remus was to catalogue him, to see him as he was, as the two of them were. Sirius ran his hands in the wake of Remus’, washing away the makeup and watching as his tattoos sprang back to life, unearthed from their temporary interment.

“Hey you,” Remus breathed, into Sirius’ mouth, his fingers slick with soap suds sliding down over the plane of Sirius’ stomach. “There you are…”

“Hey Moons,” Sirius muttered in response, scraping his teeth over Remus’ lip ring. His brow gave a little pinch as Remus’ fingers curled around his cock, stroking him gently. “Ah shit…”

Remus smiled, his eyes flickering all over Sirius’ face. “God, look at you. I knew it was you, across the room. It’s like—“ Remus’ voice wavered for a moment as Sirius trailed his nails up Remus’ thigh, then wrapped fingers around him— “It’s like I just know it’s you… even if I were blind, deaf and dumb, I’d know it was you.”

Sirius leaned in and kissed Remus properly, not able to form words for a moment, not able to shift past this, stroking each other in tandem with the torrent of hot water. Remus kissed back with a soft hum, his free hand twisting indolently through strands of Sirius’ hair as it brushed over his shoulders. Remus’ tongue slid across the part of Sirius’ lips with hot breath and the cool metal of his lip ring. Sirius groaned into the kiss, twisting his wrist and relishing the shudder that it wrung from the planes of Remus’ body.

“Christ,” Sirius whispered on a gasp, tipping to the side to duck his head and trail his mouth over the lines of Remus’ neck. “Right there, Moons, ah, God—“ He nipped at the tender skin, around the edges of the lotus, down to the base of his throat where Sirius could sink his teeth in and add to the marks there, the metal and ink, and stamp his own heartbeat in a purple bloom. He loved marking Remus, loved the soft noise that it threaded up from the wicks of his throat.

“Shit…” Remus huffed, tipping his chin back to bare more of his throat to Sirius with a soft little noise.

Sirius felt the trickles of pleasure humming over his nerve endings and gathering at the base of his spine as he pressed another kiss to Remus’ neck, fluttering over his pulse before he pulled back to look at him. There they were, in their ocean, holding each other in place, holding each other up with underpinnings of affection and adoration, tearing each other down with slow strokes, kisses, pleasure, like the tides over them in tandem with their heartbeats.

“Yeah, oh—fuck, there,” Sirius whispered into the cell spaces between Remus’ breath, pressed so close to breathe in what he let out. Tremors flickered up through his thighs as he spilled into Remus’ hand with a long, low moan.

“God, shit, Pads.” Remus was only moments behind him, his hand still stroking a steady-slow rhythm over Sirius to coax him back from the stars as he came himself. “ _Fuck_.” Sirius felt him tense a moment before he saw, through the haze of his own orgasm, muzzy and warm, Remus’ eyebrows pitch together as he came against Sirius’ thigh.

Sirius thought of the last party, nearly six months ago, doing this in the back room of the party and seeing the look of fractured vulnerability that had passed over Remus’ face. But now it wasn’t vulnerability Sirius saw, it was strength, openness, their _togetherness_.

Remus set his head on Sirius’ shoulder, breathing hard as Sirius watched the rise and fall of his chest. “Love you,” he mumbled, pressing a kiss to Sirius’ tattooed collarbone.

“I love you, so much.”

Together they dried off, Sirius leaning his hip against the counter to try and counteract how jellied his legs feel in their well-warm and boneless splendour, Remus laughing as he lifted one foot to dry it and nearly fell over. Sirius tugged him back to their room and without bothering to get dressed, they crawled into their bed together and tangled their limbs into a familiar comforting latticework.

Sirius pressed a kiss to Remus’ shoulder and hummed in satisfaction as the other man sprawled his arm over Sirius’ chest. They drifted off to sleep, and Sirius thought of just how well the party had gone.

_It’s moonlight, back in the cabin, beautiful silver-gold and hot-cold moonlight, that flickers over Sirius and Remus. They’re kissing, softly, slowly, pouring affection and adoration and soft little silver threads of breath and moonlight between them. But there’s a ringing in Sirius’ head, at the base of his skull, just behind his ear. Quiet at first but louder and louder, buzzing and buzzi—_

Sirius’ phone was ringing. He huffed, leaning onto one elbow to seize it off the table without waking Remus. It was early, with the sun just peeking between the buildings. He peered at his phone, only registering one word before he answered— _Andi_.

“Andi?”

“Sirius, hi,” Andromeda said. They had texted a few times, but that was it, they didn’t _really_ speak. “I’m sorry to phone so early… I—you need to know this, I just heard from Bella—“

Sirius sat up, pushing his hair back from his face as he frowned, wading through the treacle of his early-waking. “What? What’s up?”

“It’s… It’s Regulus. He’s in hospital. It’s… you need to go and see him.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some trigger warnings for this chapter: hospital visits, medical machinery, talk of drug use/overdose, emetophobia, Black family nastiness and allusions to past child abuse and trauma. They are all fairly brief mentions and touches, nothing is in detail, however it's talked about.  
>  _Please_ be kind to yourself and if you want a more in depth run down of this chapter to see whether you'd be able to read it, or if you want a summary of the chapter if you _can't_ read it, drop me a message on Tumblr at @jennandblitz and I'd be happy to talk through!  
> As always, thank you to my Boo Purplechimera for the beta!

“He’s still my  _ brother _ ,” Sirius said, in the living room, pulling on his boots. He’d woken Remus up with his hurried goodbyes to Andromeda then spilled out of bed and that must’ve made a racket too because then James had appeared at his door. Andromeda hadn’t known much more, just that she’d heard from Bella that Regulus was in a bad way, in hospital.

“I know, I know.” James stood in the kitchen, his hands held out in front of him like he was trying to corner a rabid dog. In many ways he was. 

“So I have to go and see him.”

“I  _ know _ . But think about what you’re going to run into here Sirius. It won’t just be Regulus.” James cast a glance aside to Lily, who was making tea in short, tidy little motions. 

Sirius shook his head, feeling a piece of hair dislodge from the bun he’d scraped it up into the previous night. “I…” He knew he would run into Walburga and Orion, knew that their precious heir would be so important to them, that they’d never leave his bedside. “What if he dies, Jamie?”

James ran a hand through his hair and nudged his glasses further up his nose. “Of course you want to go and see him… but you’ll see  _ them _ too. Are you… are you prepared for that, Pads, honestly?”

“I have to be, don’t I?” Sirius felt like he had been sitting in ice water since Andi had called; the chilling numbness was creeping up through his extremities and heading towards his heart.

Remus emerged from the bedroom, pulling on a jumper. “I’m coming with you.”

Sirius pulled the band out of his hair, shook it out then scraped it back up into a bun. “You don’t have to. Thanks Lils,” he murmured as she set a steaming mug of tea in front of him. He didn’t want to drink it, but it was the thought that counted.

“Well I’m going to.” Remus rubbed a hand over his face, looking to Sirius, then to James.

James crossed over to the sofa and sat on the arm. “I don’t want you to go to a bad place when you see them, Pads. It’s been years and, well, listen… you didn’t handle it well then either.”

Sirius blinked. “I don't have a choice, Prongs. I gotta… I know it’s stupid because he’s an  _ arse _ and he stayed around and we don’t even talk but he’s my  _ brother _ . As much as I hate it, I—I… owe it to him. You know what I mean, James.” Sirius took a breath, rubbing his hands over his face. So many times in Grimmauld Place, Regulus had brought him back from the brink. When Walburga had thrown the pills at him and told him to  _ do it _ , Regulus had been there to prise the bottle out of his hand. James paused and gave Sirius a solemn little nod. 

Sirius breathed again, it felt like he had to force each breath in and out of his lungs. “I… If he died… without me saying anything, or seeing him…” He knew he would struggle seeing his biological parents, seeing the people who  _ abused _ him—he knew that now, knew that was what they did—but he had no choice; he had to go to Regulus and make sure he was okay, that he wasn’t going to  _ die _ . 

“Alright,” James said on a sigh. “I’ll come too.”

“No you won’t Potter,” Lily retorted, crossing her arms. “Last time you nearly started a fight with Orion, and I’m not having that happen. You know if you touched him he’d have every lawyer in London on your case.”

Sirius remembered that moment well, unusually vivid compared to his usual memories of his biological parents, which were dreamlike and blurry. Orion and Walburga had found out where they lived a few years ago and turned up, for what seemed like the sole purpose of fucking Sirius over. Lily had had to hold James back from throttling Orion when he’d made some vague reference to open fires and pokers.

“It’s okay, we’ll go and I’ll phone you and keep you updated, Prongs.” Remus had pulled on his denim jacket and must’ve rubbed the sleep from his eyes because they were a little red.

“Right,” James huffed, crossing his arms. He closed his eyes for a moment before looking at Sirius with the most earnest expression Sirius had seen from him for a while. “Don’t be stupid. Remember they have no power over you now. You don’t have to put up with their shit, and you are not responsible for anything they say or do, right?”

Sirius just nodded, feeling bile rise in his throat. He didn’t have a choice, he had to go and see Regulus, especially if it was as bad as Andi thought. “I’m ordering an Uber, gonna go wait for it.” Sirius snatched his phone up, thought one more time about phoning Regulus’ number, then stood up.

James embraced him first, his arms tight around Sirius’ ribs. “You got this, Pads.”

Sirius clung to him just for a moment, wishing James would come with him but knowing, as always, that Lily was right. James would get into trouble if he started anything, and Sirius had sixteen years of dealing with them under his belt. Sure, they had left him broken, but he was stronger now. When James pulled away Lily slipped into his place and hugged him tight. “Let us know how he is, and be  _ careful _ , please.”

Sirius stepped away with a breath. He hadn’t really stopped to think yet, and he didn’t really  _ want _ to, else he’d chicken out. He just had to see Regulus, even though he hated himself for it. “Going for a cig whilst I wait for the Uber,” Sirius said softly, smiling at the three of them. They were all looking at him expectantly, as if waiting for a breakdown or an outburst or something awful, but Sirius just clenched his back teeth together. He had to see Reg, as his brother; they were still brothers. Sirius said they weren’t, Sirius said he only had one brother in James… but Regulus and Sirius were bound in way Sirius didn’t think he was with anyone else. Regulus and Sirius had gone through everything together, Regulus saw Sirius at his worst, his most broken. Regulus was there for those moments where Sirius had no hope, before he ran to James, before he realised there was a way out. Those resigned moments, those moments where the only light was a pale face and a little smile in the study across the table, someone to help, hold, someone to know  _ just _ what it was like in that fucking house... 

At the front door James took Remus by the arm and held him back a little. Sirius didn’t really care what they were going to talk about. It was probably just advice on how to deal with Sirius. He knew he was a head-case around his biological family, knew how bad they were for him, how awful it was going to be, but he knew he had to do it for Regulus. If James couldn’t come with him (rightfully so, for the good of them all) then his advice would be the next best thing. He knew this side of Sirius better than anyone else, knew the nightmares, the fact Sirius couldn’t remember most of it when waking, only dreamed of it, knew he had locked it in that place where memories too painful to process lived. Sirius just remembered _ pain _ . 

He lit up his cigarette outside and took a long, grateful drag on it, watching the smoke plume up into the sky. He was jittering, his feet tapping, clicking his lighter off and on in a short, syncopated little rhythm. He had to do this. Andi had said it was  _ bad _ , just before she’d given the name of a very private hospital and said her goodbyes. Sirius had a duty as the older brother to protect Regulus, and he’d failed it on two counts now—by leaving Grimmauld when he was sixteen, and now, whatever had happened to him.

“Hey,” Remus said softly, his hands in his denim jacket pockets as he appeared next to Sirius. “You don’t have to go and see him, you know.”

“I do.”

“You said you’d cut ties with them all. You’ve got one brother and it’s James.” Remus was watching him very closely, his voice warm and soothing even though it was saying everything Sirius didn’t want to hear.

Sirius tried not to snap, tried to only breathe deep and listen and  _ explain _ , because Remus didn’t understand. He was an only child. He didn’t grow up with Regulus, didn’t feel like it was the two of them against the world. “I have to. He’s still my brother, he was there when—” Sirius cut himself off, exhaling sharply— “when I didn’t think I would get out of it all. I hate him with every damn thing I’ve got, but he’s still my brother.”

Remus just inclined his head. “Okay. I’m here with you, whatever you decide to do.”

The Uber pulled up to the kerb just as Sirius was exhaling his last drag. He threw the butt on the floor and stepped on it as he strode to the door and climbed in. Remus was right behind him, sitting close. As the car pulled out into the road, Remus took a deep breath and reached over, setting his hand on the wolf on Sirius’ thigh. His fingers traced the edge of the fur, then turned over, offering his palm for Sirius to take. Sirius, filled to the brim all of a sudden with sweet, warm gratefulness, took his hand and squeezed his fingers hard.

The ride seemed to take forever. Remus answered the Uber driver’s small talk, keeping his fingers locked with Sirius’ and his thumb brushing a soothing rhythm over the peaks and troughs of his knuckles. Eventually, the Uber pulled down a long drive on the edge of town, lined with poplar trees. The building at the end seemed modern and cold and Sirius’ stomach flipped. Perhaps coldness suited Regulus now; he’d been cold when he turned up at the shop after all, in his suit with that distasteful expression on his face.

Sirius got out of the Uber and paused at the door only for a moment to see that Remus was a step behind him. At the reception desk Sirius was greeted with a very polished woman in a white t-shirt who smiled blithely at him.

“Good morning,” Sirius said, trying to summon back the clipped, aristocratic accent he was brought up with, the one that slipped when he was drunk or angry, and made sure the words didn’t quiver the same way his hands were shaking. “I’m here to see Regulus Black.”

“Certainly sir. Can I take your name please?” she replied smoothly.

Sirius nodded, feeling jerky and shaky. “Sirius Black. I’m his brother.” Remus stood next to Sirius, slipping their hands together and lacing their fingers too. Remus was coming into that room with him. Even if he wasn’t so sure of that fact himself, the way Remus was holding onto him made him certain.

The receptionist nodded, her blithe smile still in place as she turned to her computer and punched a few keys with her well-manicured nails. Sirius was sure he’d be turned away. To his surprise though, the receptionist looked up from the screen and smiled at him. “Right this way, sirs.”

The corridors beyond reception were a deep blue. The lighting looked more like a country club of sorts, all low and warm, than a hospital. Sirius could do nothing but stare at the back of the woman’s head and hold onto Remus so tight he thought their bones might fuse together. Maybe that was what he wanted. They came to an abrupt stop outside a door and the woman knocked lightly before opening it. Sirius’ heart was in his throat, he wanted to scream and run. He could only hope Regulus was by himself beyond that door, but he could already hear hushed conversation. 

“Mr. Black, sir, a visitor,” the receptionist said, and stepped aside to allow Sirius in.

There they were. 

Sirius felt like every good thing he’d ever been a part of was being pulled out of him. It had been six years since Sirius had seen his parents and yet they still looked exactly the same, still looked at him like he was dirt on their shoes, like he disgraced everything they ever cared about, like they’d rather he be six feet under.

Orion was wearing an impeccably tailored black suit, modern and sharp, with his black hair swept back from his face. His hairline looked just like Sirius’ when it was pulled back. His face had those hallmarks of the Black genes: high cheekbones, pale skin, but his eyes were a shining blue and his mouth was pressed into a tight line of disapproval. Sirius thought he’d only ever seen Orion smile  _ cruelly _ , never genuinely happy for anything. Walburga was sat next to her husband, in a pair of black trousers and a turtleneck that looked like it would cost everything in Sirius’ savings account. Her hair is twisted up into a little clip, still as black as pitch. Sirius looked  _ so _ much like her, the older he got. He had her cheekbones, sharp and high, her aquiline nose, pointed. He had her eyes, grey like mercury, and the same mouth, prone to twists of cruelty.

Sirius felt like his blood was running cold, his feet glued to the floor. He stepped forward, unwilling to show his weaknesses. He was here for Regulus, not them. He looked away a moment after he saw a flicker of disappointment, of anger, over Orion’s face. They didn’t say anything though, the two of them in twin armchairs like a king and queen over this fetid land, tyrannical rulers over Tartarus. Sirius was hyper-aware of them as he turned his head to see Regulus in a hospital bed. 

He looked like he was sleeping; like when he had sneaked into Sirius’ room in the middle of the night and Sirius had stirred before him, seeing him fast asleep on the pillow next to him, his black hair ruffled. He always had colour in his cheeks in those moments though, pink flecks colouring his alabaster skin. He was pallid now. There were machines and wires and pipes everywhere and Sirius had to blink a few times to take it all in. That was his kid brother there. The room was large, more like a hotel room than any hospital bed Sirius had ever seen, luxurious and plush if it weren’t for the machines. Sirius didn’t see the room though, didn’t see anything but Regulus, sleepy in the early morning light, just like when they used to fend off the nightmares together. His gaze turned to tunnel vision, and he was all of a sudden aware of his fingers shaking—one hand in Remus’ palm, the other shoved in his pocket as if he could pretend he wasn’t practically vibrating out of his skin with all of this.

“Sirius.” His mother’s voice was curt and sharp and  _ pretended _ at being warm so very well. Sirius knew it well enough to know there was no warmth there.

Sirius didn’t know how to answer, so he didn’t, and just crossed the room to Regulus. He could have stood either side of the bed to get closer to him, lean over and smooth his hair back from his forehead, but the closest side meant having his back to his father, which he had not done since the first time he was knocked unconscious, and the far side of the bed meant being trapped by them, having to go past them to the door, and Sirius hadn’t done that since he was eight years old.

So instead, Sirius stood at the foot of the bed, staring at Regulus. With a squeeze, Remus dropped his hand, then put his arm around Sirius, his hand falling to the small of his back, softly, lightly, but he was  _ there. _ Gratefulness unfurled in the pit of Sirius’ stomach, warm and sturdy, filling him up like ballast. His own hands clutched to the bed-frame, white knuckled. Sink or swim across his knuckles, he was sinking, sinking, sinking, only Remus to keep him up.

_ You’re so fucking stupid _ , Sirius thought, wondering how his brother even got into this position, watching the rise and fall of his chest, hearing how mechanical it sounded with the aid of the respirator.

“I wasn’t aware we’d publicised anything,” Orion said. Sirius could tell he was speaking to Walburga, had used the same tone of voice whenever Sirius was in his study. He didn’t remember much of what happened there, not when he was awake, but he remembered the tone of Orion’s voice.

“We didn’t,” Walburga replied lightly.

He felt like he couldn’t do it all at once, not deal with Regulus, look after Remus  _ and _ face Walburga and Orion. He didn’t know which one to do first, didn’t want to do  _ any  _ of it. He let out a long breath, his eyes flickering from Regulus to his parents, still sat in their chairs, hands folded in their laps. “I’m just here for Regulus,” he said, willing his voice stronger.

Walburga hummed softly, the noncommittal noise she made whenever Sirius tried to explain himself but she wouldn’t stand for it. “I imagine it was Andromeda who told him Regulus was here.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me.”

For a moment, Remus’ fingers dug in to Sirius’ back and he felt them press into his flesh, through his jacket and his shirt beneath. Sirius flinched, thinking of Walburga’s  _ claws _ and the way she would grip on so tight until he bruised or  _ bled _ . Then Sirius realised why, because Walburga’s shoes were clicking on the tiled floor as she drew closer.  Sirius’ heart was pounding, pounding, pounding, in his throat, in his ribs, in his fingertips, in his forehead. He couldn’t think, breathe, move, do  _ anything _ but watch as she stepped into his peripheral. She cocked her head, reminding Sirius of the cold way a hawk watched its prey, waiting for a mistake, waiting for that fatal swoop.

“Hospital visits are for  _ family _ only, Sirius,” she said lightly, one eyebrow quirking. She touched the ragged shoulder seam of Sirius’ leather jacket, the studs there, the tattoo on the side of his neck, the gauge in his ear, like she was passing judgement on them all, like she wanted to pluck them away and mould him into something he wasn’t,  _ still _ .

“I’m just here for Regulus,” Sirius said, his voice shaking. Remus’ hand was still on Sirius’ back, feeling like it was holding him up. Sirius tried to lean into him, take his sturdiness. “What happened?”

In the corner, still in his armchair, Orion cracked his knuckles. Slowly, one by one, like a slow beat to a funerary dirge. Each snap echoed through the quiet room atop the beeping of Regulus’ machines and Sirius flinched with every single one. He knew what those hands could do, still had the marks to prove it across the backs of his thighs beneath ink and quivering muscles. His own knuckles were white on the bed-frame.

Walburga tutted softly, folded her hands back together, but she stayed so close. Sirius could smell her cloying perfume and it made him lightheaded, like he was back at Grimmauld Place. “Regulus doesn’t want you here. You made that decision years ago.”

“You don’t know that.” Sirius gritted his teeth, his heart pounding, pounding, pounding, hammering in his ribs, in his stomach, up to the base of his throat. The room was spinning, around and around; he wanted to scream and cry and  _ run _ . “Just tell me what happened.”

“Who’s this, Sirius?” Walburga said lightly, finally turning her attention to Remus—Sirius could see her at the corner of his eye, one eyebrow cocked, her grey eyes intrigued but cold.

“No one you talk to,” Sirius replied, stepping closer to Remus. He felt protective of him, but it felt like he  _ couldn’t _ protect him, not when he was like this. “What happened to Regulus?”

Walburga laughed softly. “Oh. I do remember. Bellatrix did tell me about when she saw you last.” She regarded Remus so coolly that if Sirius was thinking clearly he’d be surprised Remus didn’t shiver. “The one with the—“ she gestured to the side of her own face, where Remus’ mandala sat— “scars.” She stepped closer to Remus, moving behind Sirius’ back. 

Panic racketed through him and Sirius turned, refusing to let him behind her, to somewhere he couldn’t see. He pressed back against the bed-frame, trying to keep his distance, watching her with wide, grey eyes;  _ her eyes _ . Walburga stared at him, her elegant eyebrow lifting further, as if Sirius’ behaviour was a mystery to her, as if she didn’t  _ know _ exactly why he acted like this.

Remus’ hand went to Sirius’ arm, holding onto him. Sirius didn’t want him to hold so tight, but he couldn’t do anything, couldn’t do anything but back against the bed-frame and try to keep his distance from Walburga. Remus, thank fuck, his amber eyes flickering between Sirius and Walburga, stayed still, his chin tipped upwards. Without looking away from Walburga, Remus spoke. “Sirius, do you want to go and speak to a nurse, if she won’t tell you?”

Walburga smiled, predatory but cold. “That’s not necessary,” she murmured, putting her hand out to stop Remus. Remus stepped back, preventing her from touching him. 

Sirius couldn’t breathe, felt like he was watching this all from above them all, out of his body. He was aware it was struggling to breathe, its heart pounding in its throat, shivering all over, but it was like the body wasn’t his; he had nothing there, no bones and blood and skin, Sirius was just fear and terror and memories.

“Why don’t we sit down, Sirius, then I can tell you what happened?” Walburga’s question sounded like a statement, like he had no choice. Sirius blinked, his brain firing too rapidly; he couldn’t keep up, he wanted to curl up in the corner, he couldn’t, he couldn’t, he couldn’t.

“No,” Sirius said through gritted teeth. “Just tell me.  _ Please.” _

In the corner, Orion chuckled, adjusting his cufflinks. Sirius hated asking them for anything, had always hated saying  _ please _ , giving his vulnerability to them, but he needed to know what happened to Regulus. He would beg if he needed to. Sirius knew that Orion was laughing at him, how weak he looked right now, plastered against the back of the bed, staring at Walburga. He knew he should be worried more about Regulus, but he was trying to deal with being in the same room as the two people that made his childhood hell.

Walburga’s smile widened, just a fraction before her expression fell into a carefully schooled look of sorrow. “Regulus somehow managed to get a hold of some drug, or some such,” she said, sorrowful. “We don’t know how it happened, but it must have been…  _ bad _ .”

Sirius knew immediately that it was lies. He knew immediately that it was cocaine,  _ Black Enterprises _ cocaine, the stuff that Regulus had probably been taking since he turned sixteen, the stuff Sirius had left him defenceless against. He didn’t know whether it was an accident though. He knew the  _ Black Enterprises _ cocaine was the  _ good stuff _ before everything had been cut and thinned and cheapened, but that didn’t help. Sirius’ brain was whirring, his mind spinning. He remembered being hunched over that coffee table, as clear as day, the cocaine burning his nose and his throat.

Sirius couldn’t get the words out, only skirted around Walburga and ran to the adjoining bathroom. His knees were weak as he shoved through the door and only just managed to get to the toilet before he retched. His stomach was empty but Sirius fell to his knees with a clatter. He could hear Orion chuckling again as Remus followed him into the bathroom and shut the door behind him.

“Hey,” he said softly, right in Sirius’ ear, his hands going through Sirius’ hair to hold it back for him. “It’s okay.”

“No it’s not,” Sirius gritted out, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He felt like he was hyperventilating but wasn’t aware enough to do anything about it. “No, no, no, no.” He clenched his eyes shut against the tears stinging his eyes. He wouldn’t cry, not here, not like this. 

Remus rubbed his back; slow, soothing strokes up and down his spine, over the dragon. “I’m right here with you.”

Sirius was shivering, his eyes slipping closed. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“You don’t need to. If you want to leave, we can leave.”

“What if Regulus dies?” Sirius practically choked on the words. “I left him in that house with  _ them _ and what if he dies now, because I  _ left _ .”

“He isn’t your responsibility, Sirius, you aren’t responsible for how he feels… But if you want to stay, I’m staying here with you. I won’t let them hurt you.” 

Sirius sat back, wiping his hand on his mouth and flushing the toilet. When he turned to look at Remus, leaning against the wall of this overly-luxurious bathroom, his eyes were blazing amber with indignation and anger. Sirius could read the words, clear as day, on Remus’ face— _ how dare they? I won’t let them hurt you, you’re mine, in this ocean of ours, I’ll keep you afloat _ . Remus was the ocean, and Sirius could sink into him, if he needed, take refuge in his depths, hide his face from this all. He had to be strong though, he had to stay here with Regulus.

“I don’t want you to get hurt or… get pulled into their shit, Moons.” Sirius leaned back against the wall, forcing himself to take long, deep breaths. All he wanted was to curl up and cry in the corner.

“I won’t. I’m here for you, Pads, whatever you need.” Remus sat next to him, holding his hand out, palm up. Sirius slipped his hand into his, laced their fingers, squeezed tight. Sirius’  _ Swim _ hand, because he had to swim, had to keep swimming, keep afloat in this water. He couldn’t sink, not now, not now he’d found everything, not now he and Remus had become so intertwined. He had to keep floating.

“I just want to make sure Regulus is okay. I don’t want to speak to them or be around them or give them anything.” Sirius’ voice was reedy and thin, gaze fixed on the ceiling.

“Whatever you need, Pads,” Remus repeated, keeping their fingers laced.

“Yeah.” 

Sirius stayed there for a few moments longer, listening to his biological parents talking in the other room. This hospital was so decadent and luxurious, navy and low lighting, thick drapes and discretion. Sirius felt like it was almost worse than a clean, white, sterile room. It took a few deep breaths, slow, in through his nose, out through his mouth, tracing the scars over Remus’ knuckles like his map back to himself, for Sirius to feel well enough to stand.  He opened the bathroom door and stepped out with his chin held high.

A nurse in a white shirt with elegantly coiffed hair was bending over Regulus. Sirius’ breath caught in his throat, stepping forward to him. Walburga and Orion were out of the room, but Sirius felt like he could hear their voices just floating through the air over to him, filled with pain.

The nurse nodded at Sirius, a tight, professional smile on her lips. 

Sirius nodded back, scrubbing a hand through his hair for a moment before he summoned the words. “I’m Regulus’ brother… could you tell me what happened?” Sirius didn’t quite want to say  _ my harpy of a mother refuses to disclose anything other than thinly veiled guilt-trips, please help me _ , but he hoped that came through in his expression.

The nurse seemed to soften, glancing back over her shoulder where she was peering at a screen. “Regulus came into us with a stimulant overdose. He’s stable for the moment, we believe, but we’re keeping him in an induced coma currently, to assess his condition safely.” She smiled kindly, perhaps because Sirius’ terror was written on his face. His teeth were chattering, he thought. “I’d be happy to answer any questions you have though, Mr. Black.”

“Thank you,” Sirius said softly, wrapping his arms around his stomach. “Is… is he going to be okay?”

“We’ll certainly try our best to make sure he is, yes.” The nurse’s reply was smooth and professional, and Sirius knew that she was only placating him, but he felt so ripped apart that he wanted to cling to his torn edges, and believe that this woman wouldn’t let his brother die.

“Thank you.”

The nurse nodded, then moved around to Regulus’ other side, getting on with her duties. For a moment, the world seemed okay, the machines beeping behind the nurse, the mechanical rush of air in and out of Regulus’ lungs. Sirius skirted closer, fleetingly happy whilst his parents were out of the room, to peer at his younger brother’s face. 

Regulus looked so…  _ normal _ . His cheeks were as pale as ever, his hair shorn and falling over his forehead. His eyelashes were as long and dark as Sirius’, casting shards of shadow over his high cheekbones. Sirius reached out and touched his cheekbone, the tip of his nose. How much trouble had he gotten himself into? How much  _ Black Enterprises  _ cocaine had Regulus taken over the past 6 years? He was only twenty two, for Gods sake. Sirius had left him alone in the house with two sociopaths with no regard for human life, and  _ this _ is where it got him.

“What the fuck happened, Reg?” Sirius whispered, pushing Regulus’ hair back from his face. Next to him, Remus put his hand on Sirius’ back again. He was careful, Sirius thought, to stay in Sirius’ eye-line, not to scare him, to keep him safe, guard him. Sirius let out a breath and Remus’ hand felt so warm on his back, solid, present, resonant and  _ here _ . The silence, punctuated by the machines, washed over him, just for now, just for something to grip onto.

The peace was shattered a moment later as the door opened and a flurry of movement swept into the room, doctors and nurses. Panic jolted up Sirius’ spine as he turned, making sure never to be caught unawares his parents, as they stood in the doorway. Around him doctors and nurses swept through to Regulus. Remus stayed by Sirius’ side, hand on his back, holding him up, as Walburga watched the commotion around her son.

“What’s happening?” Sirius said, his voice sounding hoarse.

Orion put his hand on his wife’s shoulder, regarding Sirius with a coolness he hadn’t seen for years. He felt it though, shivering through him, ice water poured over his head. “Regulus is coming back to Grimmauld Place now he’s stable, to be seen by our private doctor.”

The mention of Sirius’ childhood home made his stomach clench. He knew what they were doing; they wanted to get Regulus away from him, to a place he wouldn’t ever step foot in again. They were doing this to spite him, he knew it. Remus’ hand pressed to his back, holding, holding, holding.

“Of course,” Walburga said lightly, a sharp smile on her lips, her hands folded in front of her, “family are welcome back there.”

_ But I’m not family, am I? _

Sirius swallowed, clenching his hands in his pockets. He didn’t want to leave Regulus. It felt like when—if—he woke up, Sirius would have to drag him out of there. He couldn’t leave him to the wolves, not like this. Had his overdose been a cry for help? Or had it been accidental? Sirius couldn’t leave him here.

But Sirius couldn’t go back to Grimmauld Place. He hadn’t been there in eight years, not since he ran out of the Christmas party when he was sixteen. He had only been back there in his dreams, his  _ nightmares _ , but he had to, now, didn’t he? He couldn’t leave Regulus. Sirius had blocked his number. What if he had been trying to reach out, trying to  _ get out? _ God, fuck, he couldn’t leave him here. He had to.

“Good. I’ll get an Uber and follow you,” he said, willing his voice stronger and stronger.

“Pads,” Remus breathed in his ear, his fingers tightening a little.

“It’s fine, Moons,” Sirius murmured, turning his head towards Remus, without taking his eyes from his father’s face.

“Family now, are we?” Walburga smiled, cocking her head. Sirius felt like a rabbit in the headlights again, a worm confronted with the shadow of the hawk. He wanted to turn and run but they were between him and the door. He wondered if he could skirt around and run to the hall. He tried to remember if they had gotten a lift or taken the stairs, how far he could jump out the window not to just be cornered by them.

“I’m Regulus’ brother.” Sirius stood as straight as he could bare it, trying not to shrink beneath her gaze.

She watched him for a moment longer, her gaze so cold, before she turned to Orion, gave him a shrewd look, then turned back to Sirius. “Fine.” With that, Walburga turned on her expensive heel and Sirius heard them click all the way down the hall. 

Orion lingered in the door for a moment longer, staring at Sirius. His hands were held behind his back, his shoulders set, his chin up. He painted a formidable figure, even without his and Sirius’ past. Now, Sirius felt his knees turning to jelly under Orion’s judging gaze. Orion raised an eyebrow, slowly, almost  _ taunting _ , and Sirius could only stand, and  _ breathe _ . 

“Excuse me, sir.” A nurse broke Sirius’ gaze, and he stepped sideways to allow them past with the bed that held his brother. Orion watched him a moment longer before he disappeared from the doorway. 

That settled it then, didn’t it? Sirius had to follow Regulus.

“We can go home, Pads,” Remus said, turning to Sirius and putting his hands on his arms. “You don’t need to do this. You… I hate seeing you like this.”

Sirius shook his head. “I’ve got to, haven’t I? I’m his brother… What if he needs me?”

Remus bit at his lip ring, his eyebrows pinched together. “Then I’ll be here with you.”

“Right,” Sirius said, his voice quivering. “Thank you.”

“Always, Pads. Me and you.” Remus leaned over, offered his palm to Sirius—he reached for him, of course he did, he’d always take Remus’ hand—then pressed a warm, light little kiss to Sirius’ temple.

Sirius drew his strength from Remus, like water up from a well, drawing up, up, up, through their joined hands, as they made their way back through the hospital and out to the front driveway. A taxi sat in the driveway, and Sirius wasn’t sure if it had been called for them or if it sat there for the people who didn’t have private cars. 

Silently, as if he were following a funeral procession, the private ambulance pulling off from the private hospital, Sirius walked to the car. A funerary dirge played in Sirius’ heartbeat, Remus’ palm warm in his, as they walked.

In the back of the car, his fingers shaking, his voice thin, Sirius spoke words he hadn’t for eight years and swore he never would again.

“Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, please.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some more trigger warnings here friends, illness and hospital talk, drug addiction talk, talk of child abuse also. It's all fairly skimmed over, nothing too in depth. From here on out we're going to be a bit dark, but we'll see the light at the other end of the tunnel soon!

_They are taking Reg back to Grimmauld for a private doctor._

_Moony and I are going back too. I have to see what happened. It was a coke overdose._

_What if it was a cry for help? I gotta be there when he wakes up._

Sirius’ fingers were shaking as he typed out a text to James. He decided it would be easier to just stare at his phone and not wait for the house that lingered on the horizon of his nightmares to crawl closer. He took big breaths, in through his nose, out of his mouth, concentrating on every sensation he had in his body, every millimetre of skin. The tips of his fingers were numb, the back of his thighs were burning, like phantom pain, like the knowledge he was going back to where this all started had coalesced into something tangible. Sirius tried to stay in his body and not slide out of it like shedding a second skin, holding on to everything that grounded him.

Remus’ hand fell to his thigh, pressing lightly. Even through Sirius’ jeans, Remus knew where the wolf lay, where the edges of the fur suffused into skin, knew _Sirius_. With a soft sigh, he slid his hand over Remus’, lacing their fingers together.

“Any time you want to leave,” Remus leaned in to whisper into Sirius’ ear. “We can. Whatever you want.”

Sirius nodded, focusing on his fingers, willing them not to shake. “Yeah. I want to make sure he’s… what if it was a cry for help, you know?”

Remus squeezed their fingers together, rubbed his thumb over the peaks and troughs of Sirius’ knuckles. “Yeah, I know.”

Sirius didn’t know how to reply to that, didn’t know what to say, if there _was_ something he could say. So he just watched the traffic filter by, wondering how long it would be until the fluttering of his heart became too painful, too awful, until it developed into the sort of seizing, ice cold terror he hadn’t felt for years.

Grimmauld Place loomed on the horizon, all at once. The street was curved, filled with elegantly pruned trees and well-kept front gardens, beautifully polished fences and imposing brickwork. The winter sun was shining, the sky surprisingly clear and bright. It made the street seem prettier than it was, made it feel like there weren’t nightmares hiding around every corner. The taxi slowed to crawl along the street, looking for Number Twelve. Sirius didn’t have to look and count. He felt the house drawing closer in his very blood. When the car pulled to a stop, Sirius’ heart was hammering in his throat, and his fingers were shaking in Remus’.

Remus paid the taxi driver as Sirius got out of the car, clutching the door to keep himself upright. The house was dark and imposing, drawing upwards, ever upwards into the sky. It felt like all Sirius could see was that house, no sky, no ground, nothing but that house and everything that came with it.

Sirius’ phone rang as he stood on the pavement, one hand holding onto the lamppost outside. He took a moment to fumble it from his pocket, glancing at the _Prongs_ on screen before answering. “Jamie,” was all that came out of his mouth, his voice a little thin.

“You are not going back to that house.”

“I have to.” Sirius didn’t look at the house looming in front of him, only stared at the cracks of the pavement, framed by tendrils of black hair falling down around his face.

“No, you do not.” James’ voice was clipped and the flat was silent in the background. Lily was probably sat next to him, hand in his, keeping him calm and grounded. Sirius imagined that Lily had spent the last five minutes convincing him _not_ to get an Uber to Sirius right now. “You owe them nothing. You owe Regulus nothing, either.”

“I do, Prongs. You know I do. We might’ve cut ties but he… he was in that house with me. You know, Prongs, I gotta. What if he needs help?”

James sighed, and Sirius could see the other man rubbing at his eyes, pushing his glasses up onto his forehead to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I can’t stop you but I think it’s a really bad idea, Pads. What do you need?”

“I dunno.” Sirius leaned against the lamppost. Remus was stood behind him, his hand falling to Sirius’ back again. “I just have to do this. I… don’t think I can but I have to.”

“Mmm.” James cleared his throat. “Let me speak to Moony.”

Sirius sighed softly. “Okay. I’ll talk to you later, Prongs. Bye.”

“Love you, Pads.”

“You too Prongs.” Sirius pulled the phone away from his ear and held it out to Remus. “Prongs wants to speak to you.”

“‘Kay,” Remus breathed, taking the phone from Sirius’ hand and replacing it with his own hand. “Hey Prongs.”

Sirius sighed, leaning his head on Remus’ shoulder. He hadn’t turned to look at the house yet, only stared at the pavement, saw glimpses of the wrought-iron fencing at the edges of his periphery, like the boundary edge of the hell-scape his parents ruled over. Sirius hadn’t been back here since the night at the Christmas party. He remembered nearly nothing of living there, only glimpses, the sanctuary of his bedroom, the quiet.

The pain.

Next to him Remus was talking quietly into the phone and Sirius heard James on the other end, muffled through the speaker. Sirius couldn’t quite concentrate well enough to listen. He was trying not to slip back to what it was like all those years ago. With a fortifying in-breath, Sirius lifted his gaze to the house. It looked just as it did nearly ten years ago. The marble steps to the building were still white, beneath an austere black door. The windows either side of the door were shrouded in dark, heavy looking drapes that stopped every bit of light. Light didn’t reach a place like Twelve Grimmauld Place, it was all darkness, sucking out light and life and love.

“Okay, Prongs.” Remus’ voice broke through the fog that sort of crept through into Sirius’ brain. “I’ll keep you updated.” James replied with a muffled voice through the speakers. “Yeah, I know. You too Prongs, bye.”

Remus hung up and held Sirius’ phone out to him. Sirius took it with shaking fingers and shoved it into his pocket. He didn’t know what to say, just sighed softly until Remus put an arm around his waist. “Ready?”

“No.”

“Whatever you need,” Remus repeated, pressing a kiss to his temple.

Sirius closed his eyes, leaning into Remus, trying to take solidity from the lengths of the man against him. His legs were jelly; it felt like all of his bones were crumbling under the weight of the house before him. Sirius couldn’t even lift his head to look up at the stonework, to study any higher than the steps he tumbled out of years ago and ran to Potter Farm.

Remus wrapped his arms around Sirius’ waist and held on tight, holding him up, shoring him up onto the sandbanks and letting him sink into warm water all at once. He ducked his head and pressed a kiss to that honeyed divot of Remus’ throat—the place where he stored all his memories, wishes, dreams; the piercing atop the moon and star tattoo. Remus hummed and Sirius could taste the tenor of his voice, buried there and holding tight to the threads of it.

It was some time later when Sirius became aware he was a little cold, shivering in that sort of detached way he seemed to do everything today, trying to stay grounded. The slow hum of an expensive, hybrid car echoed in Sirius’ head, the impending buzz of an army on the horizon. He looked up sharply, watching the door of a sleek, black car swing open. Remus’ fingers tightened on Sirius’ lower back, digging into dragon scales, as Bellatrix’s curls peeked out over the top of the door and her sharp Black features glanced back to the car.

Sirius wanted to run, wanted to scream and fight, but his feet were stuck fast to the pavement.

“Hello cousin Siri,” Bellatrix said sweetly, one manicured eyebrow raised. Sirius swallowed hard, distantly aware of Remus holding him up. He didn’t say anything though, couldn’t make the words come, so Bellatrix carried on. “What a surprise to see you here. I suppose my bitch of a sister—“ Bellatrix sneered and if she weren’t so stuck-up Sirius thought she might’ve spat— “told you about dear little Reggie?”

“Bella,” was all Sirius could get out, his hand on Remus’ waist holding him. “I’m just here for Regulus.”

Bellatrix laughed, her expensive heeled shoes clicking on the pavement as she strode towards the front door of Number Twelve. “I can’t imagine why else you’d be here, you’re not family after all.” She paused and tossed a look over her shoulder towards Remus. “I never did give you the number for that plastic surgeon, did I?”

Remus bristled next to Sirius, but didn’t say anything. Something in Sirius wished that Remus _would_ speak up and call Bellatrix out on her vileness, but Sirius also knew, distantly, as distant as everything felt right now, that if he did, he would bring down the wrath of the whole family. James had done that before, unable to keep his mouth shut, and now it was almost _dangerous_ for him to be around the Blacks. So perhaps Remus’ particular brand of cold judgement, of unfailing, sturdy support, was exactly what Sirius needed. He swallowed, blinking rapidly to try and stay settled in his skin and not run away.

“Sorry,” Sirius whispered, turning his head slightly just towards Remus.

“No, don’t be,” Remus replied, his voice a little short and sharp.“Just ignore her. Whenever you want to leave, we leave.”

Sirius just shook his head. Beyond Remus’ shoulder, Number Twelve Grimmauld Place loomed like the harbinger of doom, parading the edges of Sirius’ vision like a hungry animal, waiting for a chance to pounce, like a plague of locusts drawing ever closer, the inhumane buzz of fluttering wings a drone in Sirius’ ears. On the top step, Bellatrix stood, waiting for the door, the smile on her face dangerously pleasant.

“Are you coming inside, Siri? Or shall I call you a taxi and tell Auntie I’ve cleared the vermin from her doorstep?”

Wordlessly, Sirius started up the steps with Remus close behind him. The front door opened to a rather stern looking man whom Sirius was sure hadn’t aged a day since he left. Kenneth Reacher was his parent’s butler, and another name on the long list of people who turned a blind eye to everything abhorrent Orion and Walburga Black did behind these walls. Bellatrix strode past him without a second glance, and Sirius reluctantly followed her.

Mr. Reacher’s cool green eyes flickered over him, then to Remus, and back. “Master Black. What a surprise.”

“Just Sirius.” Stepping over the threshold felt like falling back in time, it felt like the carpet was about to roil like just-set lava and pull him under, burn him, suffocate him, drown him in fire. “I’m here to see Regulus, nothing more.”

“Very well,” was all the butler said as he stepped aside to allow Sirius and Remus into house. Sirius hadn’t been in this house since he was sixteen, and it felt as if he were sixteen again.

The Persian rug ran the length of the entrance way and another stepped up the large mahogany staircase that curved around up to the first floor, then the second, and the attic. Sirius knew that behind that staircase laid the stairs downwards to the kitchen, then just off there the basement he liked to try and hide in when he was younger. He knew that to the left, further down, sat the grand dining room, the expansive table, the high-backed chairs. The parlour room, then another, the quiet one Walburga used to sit in with Aunt Druella and drink gin, then beyond that the old servant’s staircase. Sirius remembered Bellatrix telling him in a gleeful whisper, at eight years old, that a maid had fallen to her death down those stairs many years ago. Bellatrix used to say that at midnight every night you could see her bloody outline on the floorboards and she’d try to drag Sirius down those stairs to see at night, but he never went. On the right, the billiard room, the place his father and colleagues would always retire to after dinner, the place Sirius or Regulus were never allowed, the door always shutting with a tidy snap and Sirius would breathe a tiny sigh of relief because he would be indisposed for an hour, but after he would be drunk and loutish.

Bellatrix’s footsteps echoed through the hallway as she climbed the stairs without looking back towards Sirius or Remus. No doubt she was going to tell Walburga and Orion who had just walked into their home, but Sirius didn’t dwell on that else he thought he might just have to sit down on the floor for a moment and cry.

Everywhere he looked, Sirius felt like he was going to see after-images of his younger self. Ghostly figures running down hallways or leaning against walls to support their dead weight beneath boneless legs and bloody feet. Sirius’ memories of this place were strange. He remembered only half-truths, remembered ice-cold feelings, snippets of moments. He remembered lying in his bed with his face pressed into his pillow, counting the days back to Eton, waiting for the pain to fade. He remembered tripping down the stairs and running for the door countless times, being pulled back again and again, by some misplaced sense of loyalty, by fear, by Walburga’s hand on his shirt, by Regulus’ quiet voice from a doorway. He remembered sneaking along the hallway towards the kitchen to find food, quiet as anything, Padfoot. He didn’t remember anything concrete, nothing evidential, nothing he could replay like a movie in his head. They were just glimpses, a particularly strong emotion, a beat, a refrain, played on repeat, an echo of resonance. It was never simple, never sharp and clear, easy to parse and understand. The memories were away somewhere too painful to file through, but the sensation brewing in his chest at being back here made him feel as if he were sixteen again, as if he didn’t know if he was going to make it.

All at once, with that sensation bubbling, Sirius wanted to see Regulus. He wanted to see the one person who had been here for him in those dark corners, those twisting mazes of hallways, dark wallpaper with the suggestion of awful things lingering around the periphery. The stairs didn’t creak under Sirius’ feet, instinctive in his steps around the edges, avoiding the old pieces of rot like a nightingale floor; only he was the one about to be assassinated. Years ago he learned the rhythm and song of this house, moved with it in order to survive, and it was still in his blood now, as much as he tried to pretend it wasn’t.

Remus’ footsteps were right behind him, his hand glued to Sirius’, their bones melding together. His footfalls made noise as they ascended the great, awful staircase. Because Remus didn’t have the song in his veins. Sirius was glad for it. He squeezed their hands together as he stepped, still lightly, up onto the landing. Beside him, the staircase continued upwards, to the second floor—Orion and Walburga’s rooms, in which he’d never set foot as a child, and had no desire to do so now—then to the attic. That was Sirius’ place of respite once upon a time, the closest thing to safety in this house. But that wasn’t where he continued to now.

The hallway spread back towards the depths of the house. On the left, the rooms overlooking the street, two guest bedrooms—or was it three?—the library. Sirius had hidden away amongst the bookshelves for many summers, but it wasn’t there his brain lingered either. The other end of the hallway looked like it was covered in a thick fog, Sirius blinking to try and shift it, but it lingered. Because there, at the other end of the hallway, was Orion’s study. In his mind, Sirius saw the fire roaring, saw the fire poker on the stand next to it, saw the gouge on the corner of Orion’s desk twinning with the scar at Sirius’ hairline. He saw his own blood oozing into the expensive rug beneath him, vaguely, blurred, muzzy, with an accompanying rush of pain.

“Master Sirius, sir?” Mr. Reacher’s voice winnowed up from the ground floor towards him. “If you’re here to see Master Regulus, he’s in the rear parlour room.”

“Oh.”

Remus gently pulled on Sirius’ hand, as if he could sense Sirius needed dragging bodily from the precipice of his memories. “Downstairs, Pads?”

Padfoot, not Sirius, or Master Black. _Padfoot._ Sirius tore his gaze from the door of Orion’s study—it was ajar, only just, with the quiet suggestion of what lay beyond whispering in Sirius’ ear—and let Remus lead him back down the stairs. Remus stayed close, his hand on Sirius’ back, digging over dragon scales. Sirius felt like the floor was rolling beneath him, threatening to pull him under like a great leviathan lurking beneath old floorboards. The air in Grimmauld Place felt stale and close, the lingering rot of decay tainting the oxygen.

Remus murmured a _thank you_ to Mr. Reacher as they passed him, but Sirius could barely lift his eyes to look at the older man. Mr. Reacher had seen him at his worst, and had dropped him in the deep end several times. Perhaps it was Sirius’ inherent lack of respect for authority that the man disliked, or perhaps it was the fact he _preferred_ Regulus, and Sirius, as ever, was the lesser son. Even the _butler_ preferred Regulus.

Sirius felt as if he were trying to wade through treacle, trying to move through the air at half-speed, like a turntable with a faulty connection, on the wrong speed for the record. The world was spinning around Sirius as Remus lead him down the hallway towards the parlour room. The sounds of machinery washed over Sirius like a gentle tide, creeping into his mind. The door to the parlour room swung open on a creak to a hospital bed set against one wall, as if the room at the private hospital had been transplanted here.

The sound of the street was dulled at the back of the house, so all Sirius could heard was Regulus’ mechanical breathing and the beeps of the machines. He thought Walburga and Orion must be elsewhere, perhaps upstairs, meeting this private doctor they had upended everything for. Regulus looked even paler in the midday light, washed out by the darkness of Grimmauld Place, throwing his skin into sickly pallor.

“Reg…” Sirius breathed, crossing the room. The pain of the past seemed to roar up to meet Sirius as he clung to the rail at the side of the bed. It seemed more real back in this house. In the hospital it was almost like the world had paused just for a moment, but now, here, surrounded by the flocked green wallpaper and heavy drapes, it was _real_. Regulus might not make it. Sirius’ _little brother_. Despite it all, for everything, Sirius was still foolish enough to _care_ for him. He could walk out and leave, logically. But no, no he had to stay. They had a bond Sirius had with no one else, melded through adversity. Sirius had left because he couldn’t stay in the house, Regulus stayed because he couldn’t leave. It was painful to think of, of course. But Sirius couldn’t leave him here.

Like this, Regulus’ head was tilted back, tipped up. He could see the little misshapen ridge of his septum. Had Regulus been taking the _Black Enterprises_ coke since he was sixteen? Since Sirius wasn’t there to direct any of this away from him. His bare arm was resting across his stomach, atop the crisply folded white sheets. Sirius watched the blue of his veins beneath the skin, feeling as if he were seeing his own skin reflected back in some strange parody. Instinctively, Sirius grasped his hand and turned it facing upwards, as if he might see track marks on the pale white skin there where his own tattoos sit. There was nothing there, though, because cocaine was their weapon of choice, nothing so obvious as needles, so gauche and tactless. A sharp line of cocaine was far more attractive to these monsters than the slide of a needle.

There was, though—Sirius was struck with a memory through the fog wrapping him like a protective cloak—a small scar on Regulus’ bicep. He’d slipped and fallen whilst playing in the garden and a metal spike had gone into his arm when he was around eight years old. He’d screamed and screamed and Sirius had ran into the house for help. Of course it had been his fault, even though Sirius had been right there on the railing with him, leaping about like children were _meant_ to do. The back of Sirius’ legs rippled with phantom pain as he traced the little puckered scar and he had to sit abruptly on the edge of the bed. That was the first time he’d been beaten to unconsciousness, hadn’t it? They all blurred into one. All the times, all the pain, all of the past, mixing with the present and tinging the edges of Sirius, ripping at all his raggedness, pulling, prodding, ripping, ripping, ripping.

In a heartbeat, Remus was next to him, arm around his waist, pressing to his ribs to try and keep his heart from slamming up and out of his chest. “He’ll be okay.”

“You don’t know that,” Sirius said softly, leaning into Remus. He’d felt like a ghost all day, trailing down corridors, some incorporeal thing made only of memories and fog and pain, but here he started to feel as if his body were his again.

“You’re fucking headstrong Pads, if you want him to be okay, he’ll be okay.”

Sirius scoffed a little laugh, folding his hand over Regulus’ wrist to feel the soft fluttering of his pulse. “I want to stay until he wakes up.”

“That might not be any time soon,” Remus murmured, his fingers circling over the cluster of roses at Sirius’ ribs, tracing each petal with a touch made entirely of lightness and heat.

“I know. But…” Sirius trailed off, huffing with his own frustration, his inability to say anything meaningless or push past the glue sealing his lips shut, the glue of this place locking him down and forcing him into that dark corner. He was shaking, surely, but Remus was there, pressing and holding, lifting. “I shouldn’t even care, I shouldn’t be here. He refused to leave with me when we were kids… refused to _speak_ to me for years and now when we do speak it’s for his own gain or to rub my nose in everything. I… What if he’s not okay? God fucking knows this house is hell, Moony, and what if he’s not the cold-hearted bastard I thought he was? What if he’s… fucking falling apart and this overdose was on purpose because—”

_Because I left him here._

“I… You said to me, about Fenrir, that—that you wouldn’t pretend to know what it’s like, just that you’d be here for me. Well here I am. I don’t know what it was like, I can’t begin to imagine, but I am here. Whatever you need, Padfoot, I’m here. I won’t go anywhere.” Remus’ voice was soft, little puffs of warm air against Sirius’ cheek.

Sirius tipped his face sideways to press a kiss to the scarred silver mandala at the hinge of Remus’ jaw. His heart was beating another tattoo, one bruised and bloodied, in the shape of all his fears, on the inside of his ribcage. “Thank you,” he breathed, one hand coming up to link with Remus’ fingers, the other still holding onto Regulus’ arm.

“Me and you, Pads. You can do this.”

Above the white noise of the machinery, the house whirred with the slow coming to life of its occupants. He could hear the rhythmic descent of shoes on the staircase, the grand one, with the polished banisters, not the servant’s stairs with the ghostly bloodstain at the bottom. The voices that permeated the air cut through it right to Sirius’ insides, twisting knives through his guts. Walburga’s clipped tones, filled with endless judgement, Orion’s deep baritone, sharp but firm, Bellatrix’s teasing sing-song. It felt like the wolves were circling closer and closer. No, not wolves.

Sirius knew wolves, had one tattooed on his thigh, had one against his back, his Moony, _Remus_. He knew wolves wouldn’t tear him limb from limb like this. So, no, not wolves. Rabid animals, demons of his darkest corners, things his mind had twisted and turned into hell itself. His _parents_. The people who were meant to protect him, raise him, _love him_. They were the demons prowling at the edge of his subconscious. When Sirius closed his eyes he could see Orion, cracking his knuckles. He could see Walburga, her head tilted in faux innocence, her predator’s eyes sharp. They were vultures in human guises, pulling him apart piece by piece, tearing the skin from his flesh. And Sirius had situated himself right in their den, right in their lair, their place of power where they could bend this very house to their whims, the place he’d sworn to never set foot in again.

They drew closer, the thump of the stairs shifting to the creak of the floorboards in the hallway, voices growing louder. Sirius closed his eyes. He had to do this for Regulus, had to stay by his side, make sure Regulus had what he needed. James had given him a way out of Grimmauld Place. If Regulus wanted one too, after all this time, then Sirius would be here.


End file.
